My Guardian Angel
by KissingFire
Summary: Three nurses. Clary, Isabelle, Maia. Four men. Bloody and broken, Clary and her two friends must try to heal the men, not knowing it'll put their lives in peril, or that they'd fall for them. M for paranoia and language.
1. Prologue

**I was going to wait till I finished 'I can see you' till I wrote this, but the idea just wouldn't leave. **

Summary: Three nurses. Three mysterious men turn up at the hospital, broken and bloody, with wounds they'd never seen before.

Prologue

Clary Fray had been a nurse since she was nineteen, three years ago. She'd convinced her two best friends, Maia and Isabelle to join her. Maia was all for it, but Isabelle refused. Until she saw the outfits.

Sure, being a nurse had it's flaws. Giving sponge baths to hairy men. Changing the diaper of some old person. Watching a family die from a car accident. Not being able to save somebody.

Clary had seen disturbing things.

Suicide. Abusive scars and bruises. Babies who've been shaken until their brains turned to mush.

Isabelle could never handle that sort of thing. It made her pale and sweaty and possibly hypervenilate.

Maia had a high pain tolerance. Same thing with taking care of injured people.

Clary was good at soothing the person in pain, and was honest about their health.

She had a favorite, even though it wasn't allowed.

It was a pretty little eight-year-old Asian girl named Aline, and she'd lived there for four years.

Clary was her personal nurse, and was practically her older sister. Especially since Aline's family never visited.

Aline had leukemia, and it wouldn't go away. It was slowly killing her, and she knew it. Clary, determined to let her have her fun while she was still alive.

She took her everywhere, with Isabelle and Maia.

But she'd never thought that there was another world. Another world of killings and murders.

Clary never thought she'd meet one of those killers.

Never thought she'd fall for one.

"CLARY!"

Clary Fray rolled her eyes.

Her best friend, Isabelle Graymark, named for her beauty, burst through Aline's door, striking a quick pose in her skimpy nurse's outfit.

Aline looked at her, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Sponge bath?"

Clary snorted, earning her a scowl from Isabelle. "Raphael? Again?"

Isabelle threw back her thick black hair, squinting her onyx black eyes at Clary. "You can never have too many baths," she said with a sniff.

Aline bit her lip to keep from laughing. Clary didn't even bother, laughing outright.

"Just be sure that Raphael's the only one with his clothes off," she said, still chuckling.

Aline's teeth slid from her lip, and a giggle escaped.

"Oh, what_ever_."

She looked down at herself. "You think I look sexy in this?"

Clary let out a small cough. "I'd rather not answer that, thank you."

Aline decided to pipe in, then. "Don't ask any of the doctors, either. They'd prefer it if you didn't have any clothes at all."

She and Clary were still laughing when Isabelle slammed the door.

ufcwi;abvpfb

It was closing hour, and Clary was "Exhausted," Maia complained, stretching her arms out and yawning.

Isabelle nodded. "I'm sore all over," she agreed.

Maia let out a tired chuckle, and Clary bit her lip. "Raphael too rough on you?"

"Shut _up_." Isabelle gave her a tired shove, and Maia laughed when Clary tripped and fell into one of the lounge chairs.

The front door opened then, and Clary sat up straight.

"Sorry," she began. "But we're closed-"

Isabelle clutched her stomach.

Maia paled. Which wasn't common, seeing as she had dark skin and was never sickened by injuries.

Clary stared.

Four men stood in the doorway. Well, were leaning, anyways.

There three dark heads and one blond. Clary couldn't see their faces, which were covered in blood, dirt,and sweat.

They were zombie-like, raw skin and open wounds everywhere.

The blond looked up, and Clary was surprised to see that his eyes were a amber gold, like maple syrup.

"Please," he breathed, blood leaking from his mouth. Clary could see how much strength and energy it took him to say that one word.

"Please help us."

Then he slid to the floor, the other three falling with him.

He must have been supporting them, Clary realized.

"Elliot," Maia screamed. "We need doctors! HURRY!"

**So? **

**Review! They help me write better...**

**Also, I need some ideas of the three dark haired men...Who should they be?**

**Alec.**

**Magnus. **

**Simon.**

**Sebastian.**

**Jonathon.**

**Luke.**


	2. Chapter One

**Yaaay. So many reviews. Three men. Who are they?**

**Thank you so much for those who picked, and if I don't use the ones you wanted, don't take it personally.**

**(Didn't mean to mispell guardian. Sorry.)**

Clary chewed on her lip nervously, looking down at the blond she was hooking tubes to. He was motionless, his breathing irregular and his heartrate was too slow.

Elliot, the girls' favorite doctor that stayed all night, popped his head through the doorway.

"Clary," he glanced nervously at the unmoving blond. "Um, you might want to check on the guy I just cleaned up."

She frowned at him slightly, but did as he asked.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked as they walked down the deserted hallway. Elliot fidgeted nervously. "Nothing, really," he said reluctantly. "Just, you know. Don't attack or freak out on him. Please? He's injured."

Clary nodded, but couldn't help but feel a little confused. Maia was the violent one. She didn't hurt people, if she could help it.

When she opened the emergency room door, though, she understood why Elliot was worried about her.

"Jonathon?"

_*Flashback*_

_Eighteen-year-old Clary looked down at her dad, Valentine. He was caked in blood and dirt, not breathing. _

_Her older brother, Jonathon, had gone to work with him. _

_Her father was a police officer, and apparently, there was a series of murders happening on the other side of New Jersey. _

_Jonathon, like the fuckin' coward he was, hid behind a Dumpster while Valentine got knifed. _

_Clary looked up, her eyes dry. She wouldn't cry. She'd always been a Daddy's Girl, and his death was affecting her the most. His death wasn't real, in her opinion. She'd wake up, and he'd be waiting for her in the living room, arms out a big smile on._

_From that day on, she wouldn't cry. _

_Clary was too shocked and disgusted to cry. _

_Jonathon stood there, looking guilty and sad, his eyes silently begging his little sister to forgive him. _

_But she couldn't._

_"How the hell could you let him die, you fuckn' BASTARD!" _

_That last word made him flinch. Their mother had left them when Clary was eleven, and they hadn't seen her since. _

_"Clare Bear-" That was Valentine's nickname for her._

_"DON'T YOU FUCKIN' _DARE _CALL ME THAT, YOU SHIT ASS!"_

_Jonathon's face fell. "I'm sorry," he whispered, before turning around and leaving the house, shutting the door softly behind him._

_He never came back._

_*End of Flashback*_

Jonathon was laying in the dead white room, his face the same color, with flecks of blood. His chest rose, fell. Pause. Rise. Fall. Pause.

Clary saw white.

"What does he have?" she asked in a strangled voice.

Elliot raked a brown hand through his dreadlocks. "Several cracked ribs, internal bleeding, and a possible concussion."

She nodded, keeping her emotions in check. "Will he be alright?"

Elliot shrugged. "I don't know yet."

Clary gave a shaky sigh. "I'll check up on blondie. Tell Aline I won't be able to take her to the park tomorrow."

MPOV

Maia hummed softly to herself, throwing glances over at the motionless brunette.

He was handsome, but not too handsome, thank God. She couldn't handle cute guys, due to her abusive ex.

She glanced nervously over at the heart monitor, which was beeping slower than usual. Broken collarbone, broken leg and definitely a concussion. Maia chewed slowly on her lip. She doubted that he'd make it.

"Elliot?" she whispered. The handsome doctor stopped outside of her door. "What's wrong, Maia?"

"Do you know..." she glanced over at the unconscious man. "Do you think you know what might've attacked them?"

He was silent, before shaking his head. "These injuries are ones that I've never seen before, sweetheart." He glanced over his shoulder. "And we don't have any records of them, except for the one in the emergency room."

She raised her eyebrows. "Who?"

He bit his lip. "Clary's brother."

Maia felt her stomach clench a little at those two words. She'd grown up with Jonathon, had been his second sister.

"Will he be okay?"

Elliot sighed heavily. "It's unlikely."

Maia nodded. "You should tell Clary-"

A low moan cut her off. She gave a small gasp, and hurried over to her patient, who was shifting.

"Don't move, darling. You're okay." She grabbed an IV, gently slipping it through the skin of his wrist, making him hiss in pain a little.

He jerked his hand away, splattering blood all over her, and making him lose more blood.

"Dammit!" She smoothed back his sweaty hair, and grabbing his hand, forcing it to his side. "Elliot, get me some paper towels."

He writhered against her touch, bucking against her hand.

"Shh, shh. It's fine. You're going to be okay, darlin'." He let out a tormented cry as his hips slammed against the bed's bars that ran along the sides.

"Oh, my God." She slapped her hand on his bleeding thigh, and covered it with her white jacket.

"ELLIOT!"

"Coming, coming. No need to get your panties in a twist."

"Shut up, perv, and give me the freakin' paper towels."

"Here's Her Majesty's paper towels." He tossed her the roll, which she used to mop up the bloody mess.

Elliot left the room, leaving Maia to grab up a needle to stick in the man's stomach, numbing him.

His eyes opened for a split second, and she realized that instead of being a hazel or brown, like most brunettes she knew, his eyes were a seawater blue, with tints of gray and green.

"Are you an angel?" he whispered roughly, blood trickling from his mouth.

Maia cracked a small smile, even though it wasn't funny. It was more of a relieved smile. She hadn't expected for him to wake up.

"No," she whispered, slipping a needle in his finger, drawing a drop of blood.

She slipped it onto a disk, and stared.

His blood had numerous infections; poison, a black bacteria like one she'd never seen before, that looked...alive.

She looked over at the brunette, who's eyes had slipped shut, his unsteady breathing the only movement that assured her he was asleep.

"What happened to you?" she murmured, shaking her head and wetting a washcloth, caressing his cheek as she stroked away the blood.

She thought she heard him murmur something that sounded like 'Abbadon'.

But she was probably just tired.

IPOV

Isabelle swallowed hard as her dark haired patient let out a whimper, coughing up something that looked like black blood.

"Eww." she gently wiped up his mess, slipping some needles on his arm, hooking him up to some tubes that carried painkillers.

He was motionless. If it hadn't been for the slow rising and falling of his chest, she would've thought he was dead.

She exaimined him approvingly. He was tall, a bonus for her, since she was 6"0. 6"7 if you counted her stilletoes.

He had dark hair and porcelian skin, the same shade of many corpses she'd seen in the two years she'd worked here.

Elliot poked his head in the room. "He still alive?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. For a doctor, Elliot joked a little too much about death for her liking.

"Yeah." She frowned a little. "'Cept the heart monitor. I think it broke."

It was true; the monitor hadn't beeped since she'd hooked the unconscious patient up to it.

Elliot blinked. "That's weird," he said. "I could've sworn it was working this morning."

Isabelle cleared her throat. "Raphael still here?" At least being a nurse had it's benifeits.

Elliot gave an amused cough. "Actually, his girlfriend stopped by to pick him up."

Isabelle pouted. "Damn." She'd known he wasn't available, of course. But it added to the thrill. Like having sex without a condom.

Elliot sighed. "Get some sleep, okay? Clary's begining to look like a zombie."

Isabelle shook her head. "I'll wait for him to wake up, first." she nodded at the boy in the bed.

"Like that's going to happen," she heard Elliot mutter.

He ducked out the door, barely dodging Isabelle's Gucci purse.

ibibbubw'cdu

CPOV

Clary collapsed onto one of the benches beside the blonde's bed, feeling exhausted.

He hadn't moved for thirty minutes, and she was begining to fall asleep, when she heard a yell.

She shot up, immediataly wide awake.

The blond was twisting a shouting, sweat sticking the hair to his temples and forehead.

Clary walked sluggishly over to him, laying a calm, cool hand on his warm arm.

"Shh," she murmured, gently stroking his face, not really awake. "It's fine. You're having a nightmare."

"NO!" he screamed, causing her to jump back.

He kicked and thrashed, Clary backing up against the wall, very much awake now.

"Let go of her!" he yelled, the veins on his neck popping out. "Don't touch her!"

"HEY." Clary grabbed his shoulders, but was quickly shoved off.

She exhaled angrily, walking over and picking up her coffee mug, taking it over to the sink, filling it up with ice cold water.

"Wake up, dick." She dumped the water on his face, causing him to go still for a second.

Then he opened his eyes.

Clary was met with those same golden eyes, eyes that held stubborness and arrogance. The same expression Isabelle held whenever she looked in a mirror.

They were probably seperated at birth.

"Who are _you_?" he demanded rudely. "And what the hell was _this_ for?" he pointed at his wet face.

She turned her back on him. "You were yelling for somebody not to stop, and to keep going." She turned back to look at him, handing him a warm, wet washcloth. "It was pretty disturbing. Plus, we have kids here."

He scowled, grabbing the cloth and wiping his face. "You didn't answer my first question," he said snootily.

Clary sighed, taking the cloth from him. "Hold on." she pressed the cloth roughly to his face, scrubbing hard enough that she knew his skin probably felt raw.

"What the hell?"

She smiled sweetly. "I was trying to wipe off that ugly expression from your face. It can't seem to come off."

"Haha." he looked around. "Where am I?' he asked suddenly. "A mundie hospital?"

Clary raised her eyebrows. "A what hospital?" she peered at him. "Are you in a cult, or something?"

"Where the others?" he looked at her. "Are they dead?'

Clary groaned. "Christ, you won't shut up," she complained. "Do you always ask all these questions? Or did you just hit your head?"

The blond sat up, and gagged.

Clary gently pushed him back on his pillow, and cleaned off the mess he made on his shirt.

"Don't move." She hesitated, debating whether or not she should take his shirt off.

He stared up at her impatiently, as if noticing she was having an internal conflict over something.

She'd seen hundreds of men without their shirts on, it was part of her job. But she couldn't help but think that seeing this angelic man half-naked would affect her more than the others had.

She sighed. "Shirt off," she ordered.

He blinked at her, a mischevious look coming in his eyes. "Only the shirt?" he asked dubiously. "Because I don't mind taking off my-"

"Look, angel. Don't make me break the Hippocratic Oath."

"Angel, huh?" he leered at her. "I can show you what an angel looks like."

Clary was seriously considering hitting him in the head with the metal tray.

"Look, just take your shirt off, or I'll get a male doctor do it."

He didn't look like he cared, either way. "And let you miss a golden opprotunity? Hell, no."

Clary watched with disguised fascination as he slowly stripped off the shirt, wincing as he did.

His chest was perfect, toned, muscular, despite the many cut and bruises. and the odd looking...

"Tattoos?"

He looked at her in surprise. "You can see them?"

Clary frowned. "Angel, do you have a fever?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's Jace. And no, I do not have a fever."

_Jace?_ "What kind of name is that?"

"The perfect name for a perfect man."

"Perfect name for a conceited ass," she muttered under her breath, snatching his blood-soaked shirt out of his hands. His long, brown, pianist hands. she wandered what those hands would feel like on her-

No. Not thinking that.

He pretended not to hear her.

"While I'm trapped in this shithole," he said conversationally, obviously enjoying Clary's immediate glare. "I might as well learn your name."

"It's a lunatic asylum, not a shithole." Jace's eyes widened slightly, and she couldn't help but give a snort that he actually believed her.

He scowled. "It'd make sense that you'd work here, if it was."

Clary feigned hurt. "Ouch, Angel," she said, clapping her hand over her heart."That hurt."

Jace raised an eyebrow, making Clary a little jealous. God, even _Aline_ could do that!

"Seriously," he said, glancing at his hands. "What's your name?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Clary."

His face whitened comically the second she uttered that one word, making his golden roots look darker.

"Clary Morgenstern?"

She stiffened and shook her head. "I go by Fray, now," she said softly.

Jace nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Your brother talked about you, you know." He glanced over at her, as if testing her reaction.

Clary kept her face carefully blank, not looking at him. "Did he?" she said flatly. "What did he say?"

Jace looked at her green eyes, as if desperately searching for an answer in there. For what question, she had no clue.

"Just that you hated him. And you liked to draw-"

"I don't draw. Anymore." She cut him off, letting annoyance seep through her voice.

Jace frowned at her quizzically. "But he showed me some drawings. You're actually pretty good-"

"Look, Angel." he opened his mouth, possibly to tell her not to call him that, but she continued. "I don't draw anymore, because I don't have time, and unfortunately, don't have much interest in it."

A total lie. If he knew her, he'd know she was lying.

She loved drawing, sketching, painting...

But her boyfriend couldn't stand her artwork.

So she stopped.

Because she loved him.

Well, she _thought_ she did.

Clary sighed, pulling at one of her braids. This golden boy was begining to give her a headache with all those thoughts, emotions, memories.

Not to mention he was being a total pain in the ass.

"I have to check on A-" her phone vibrated, cutting her off. She frowned, reaching in her pocket and pulling out the tiny pink cell.

S-E-B-A-S-T-I-A-N.

She swore.

Jace cocked a golden eyebrow at her, and she couldn't help but relax a little at the thought of having soembody, even him, be near her when she answered her boyfriend.

"Hello?" she said in a quiet, blank voice.

"Claaary." His voice was slurred. Drunk. Again.

"Hey, Seb." Clary closed her eyes. She could picture him, dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, liqoir bottle in his hand.

"You wan me n my boyz ta cum ova?" Yep. Definitely drunk.

'His boys' meant more groping hands.

Meant more beatings.

She took a shuddering breath, turning away from Jace so he couldn't see her expression. "I don't know," she said in what she hoped was a calm voice. "I have to work."

"More work?" Sebastian's words were a sneer. "Working is all you ever fuckin' do! Lemme cum over, and I'll show you what you _should_ be doing."

Clary felt her chest tighten, knowing what he had in mind.

For a whole year, he'd been after her virginity. She'd refused, and he'd punched her, nearly breaking her nose.

After Isabelle and Maia had taken notice to the almost broken nose, Sebastian began hitting below the neck, but whenever he did hit her face, Clary wore extra makeup.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Clary heard, a weird, growling noise coming from Jace, and she spun around to stare at him. _Are you hungry?_ she mouthed.

He shook his head, and she wondered for a minute why his expression was murderous.

"Anyway, I wuz thinkn' bout tomorrow night."

Clary blinked, Sebastian's voice cutting through her musings.

"What about it?"

"I think it's gonna be our night." He hung up.

Jace was staring at her with incredulous eyes. "Who was that?"

Clary frowned at him. "My boyfriend. Why?"

He shrugged. "You looked-funny when you were talking to him. Hey, you okay" he looked at her worriedly. "You look like you're going to be sick."

She felt _sick._

Clapping her hand over her stomach, Clary darted out of the room and into the bathroom, where she heaved her stomach out.

She didn't know why she was sick.

Maybe, she thought as she rinsed her mouth. It was Sebastian. His words made her shudder, feeling a little scared.

Our night.

And she had a feeling she didn't get much of a say about it.

idfbvi;ubef

MPOV

Maia looked over at the blue-eyed brunette, wondering worriedly if he was ever going to wake up.

He'd shifted, wiggled his toes, and even mumbled a few incoherent words.

But he didn't wake up.

_She fell asleep, finally. She dreamed of running. Running. In the woods, surrounded by darkness, the only light coming from the full moon._

_She didn't know what she was running from. Just that she had to run, or the thing would catch her._

_A growl._

_Maia let out a panicked cry, looking over her shoulder, just as the beast tackled her._

_She looked up into a pair of familiar, icy gray blue eyes._

_A wolf stood over her, mouth opened._

_Maia let out a scream just as his mouth clamped on her neck, and she woke up. _

She opened her eyes to see the handsome-but-not-too-handsome boy sitting up in bed, fixing her with his intense blue eyes.

He was looking at her with concern, raking a hand through his tousled chestnut hair. "Are you alright?" he asked in a warm, soft and gentle voice.

The kind of voice that made girls feel fuzzy inside.

She managed a quick nod, averting her eyes from the obvious biceps that bunched under his sleeve.

"I should be asking you that," she said, standing up, and looking at him. He didn't seem to be in much pain. In fact, he looked like he'd never been injured at all.

Maia blinked, staring at his blood free body and clothes.

"You-you were just..." She trailed off, staring. It wasn't like her to be at loss for words. "Where's all the blood?" she asked finally.

He cocked his head, staring at her with those big eyes. Was it possible for somebody with blue eyes to have puppy dog eyes?

"I cleaned it up when you fell asleep," he said in such a convincing tone, that Maia would've believed him. If she hadn't known that he'd had a concussion and broken leg.

"If you say so..." she looked at him expectantly.

He smiled, his blue eyes bright. "Luke."

She smiled back. "Maia."

"GET OVER YOURSELF, YOU WHORE!"

Maia rolled her eyes, smiling at Luke's stunned expression. "And that's Clary."

**God, that took me 4ever to write. Probably my longest chap evr.**

**For those who r disappointed their choices weren't used, I can gurantee these characters'll pop up later on:**

**Alec.**

**Magnus.**

**Kaelie(Maybe, not 4 sure)**

**Sebastian.**

**If you haven't figured it out, Isabelle has Simon. *cough* DUH *cough* heart monitor, corpse color skin...If you didn't realize that, I pity you.**

**REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter Two

**Right. Well, Luke has brown hair, as stated in CoB somewhere, and if you haven't read CoG yet, I'll keep spoilers out. **

**Luke's twenty-three in this, because I'm not really into writing twenty-year-olds screwing older men...:)**

IPOV  
God, he was hot. She sighed contently, sipping her apricot and plum smoothie she'd gotten from the cafeteria.

The dark-haired boy would most likely live, with only a couple of broken bones, which had started healing a couple of hours ago. She surveyed him thoughtfully. He was even cuter than Raphael, stronger looking, somehow.

She bit her lip, wanting to touch his cheek, just to feel a little bit of him.

Isabelle swallowed the nervousness in her throat, and softly touched his smooth face with the back of her hand, brushing his cheekbones with her knuckles.

His skin was surprisingly cold, and if she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was dead.

He stirred a little, but Isabelle didn't draw back her hand or blush. She didn't feel self-conscious to be caught touching her unconscious patient.

It was actually making her feel aroused, just being next to him, and watching his pale eyelids and long dark eyelashes flutter open.

He had dark brown eyes, the color of coffee.

She immediataly felt like she was drowning in them.  
He blinked a couple of times, looking around the room. "I'm in a hospital?" he looked at Isabelle, his eyes darkening.

She noted with some concern that his blue veins spidering his temples bulged out, his skin looking thin and fragile looking.

"You might want to lie-"

He jumped out of the bed with a shocking speed, and whipped his dark head to glare at her. Isabelle was too stunned to move or speak.

"I need to get out of here." His voice was strained and pained sounding.

"But you need-"

"To _get out of here."_

He was gone. She didn't even see him go. Isabelle stared silently at the empty doorway.

That had to be the first time a boy had ever walked out on her.

The first time a boy had been immune to her appealing uniform.

She frowned. He was just so _fast_. And pale.

He was so _weird. _

Isabelle sighed. She really needed a vacation.

CPOV

"GET OVER YOURSELF, WHORE!"

Jace, damn him, wore a satisfied smirk as she screamed. "You know, sugar," he teased as he continued to unzip his bloody jeans. "One would think you've never seen a naked man before."

He slid the denim coating down his legs, Clary clapping her hand over her eyes.

"JACE," she growled. "Put those goddamn pants back on, or I swear I'll-"

He blinked innocently at her. "You'll what?"

His pants were a pooled around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxers.

Clary closed her eyes. "JACE. I am not giving you a sponge bath, now put back on your clothes."

He grinned that crooked grin that made girls go weak in the knees. "You know you don't mean it."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll let Elliot give you a bath," she told him. "Otherwise, you can take a shower like a normal person."

Jace sighed, and she saw his fingers slide under his elastic, and watched in dawning horror as he began to slowly slide his boxers off.

"AAHHH!" Clary threw up her arms protectively. "Spare my eyes!"

She could tell he was rolling his eyes by the exasperation in his voice. "Don't be such a drama queen," he sighed. "If you'd hurry with the hot water, you won't see anything."

She was out the door almost immediataly.

JPOV

Jace stared after the fiery-haired beauty as she darted out of the room, probably eager to get the tub set up.

He frowned. Jonathon, his _parabati_, had told him stories of a stubborn, rebellious and artistic and lively redhead.

That part of her seemed to have died, replaced by an empty shell.

He couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable and frightened she was whenever he undressed, as if she was scared of naked men. He blinked. Maybe she was a lesbian. Fuck, he tugged at his curls tiredly. She was so beautiful, without realizing it.

Sure, she wore too much makeup, and _way_ too many clothes for his liking, but he could imagine what she'd looked like before that.

But she still had that smart mouth, and was a little fiesty. Jace frowned. What had happened?

Clary walked back in, grabbing a sponge and washcloth, and glanced at him. "Can you stand up?"

He smirked at her. "I could.." He pretended to look thoughtful. "But I think I'd rather be carried."

The nurse made a growling noise in the back of her throat, looking annoyed and as if she was fighting back amusement.

"Fine," she said, much to his surprise. "But don't be surprised if I drop you."

Clary leaned down, slipping a slender arm around his waist and gently pulling him up. Jace almost groaned at the feeling of his hips pressed against her ribs.

She stumbled a little. "Christ, Angel," she gasped. "How _much_ do you _weigh?"_

Jace grinned down at her. "I'd tell you where all the weight comes from..." he watched amusedly as his innuedu**(Is that how you spell it?) **sunk in. "But I doubt you'd appreciate it."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Thanks for putting that image in my head," she said, not sounding grateful at all. "I just love to think about you naked."

Who would've thought?

"I knew it." He looked down smugly. "You think about me naked."

She made a gagging noise.

"As _if_."

Jace coughed over his laughter, noticing the blood that came out when he did. He wiped it quickly on his shirt, hoping Clary hadn't noticed.

She looked at him suspicously. "You okay?"

He nodded. "It's just...ironic." he glanced at her, and wanted to laugh at her confused expression.

"I think about you naked all the time," he told her, looking up from under his eyelashes, the kind of look that usually made girls swoon or aroused.

Clary, not being like other girls, was true to her word and dropped him.

CPOV

Yeah, guys that were cocky and arrogant about their looks and...private parts never really sparked her interest.

But Jace did it to annoy her. Partly. But mostly because he knew he was gorgeous.

And he didn't really sound like he cared much about people's opinion, considering he wasn't insulted by all the profanity she'd called him.

And he didn't seem like the kind of person to collapse, even with a broken leg. So Clary was surprised, when she released him, he instantly fell to the ground, landing on his broken leg, causing him to hiss a little.

Clary bit her lip and dropped to her knees. "OhmyGogohmyGodohmyGod, I'msorryJace."

She said that all in one breath, and Jace stared at her with a befuddled look. "What?" she demanded defensively.

"What the _hell_ did you just say?"

She scowled. "That's the last time I'm apologizing to you," she muttered.

He snorted. "I didn't hear you, so it didn't technically count."

Clary sighed, and slipped her hands under him, ignoring his eyes widening when her hands brushed against his bottom.

She gently took his leg in her hands, and slowly pulled it out from underneath him, guilt slamming in her chest when he cried out in pain.

"That's what you get for landing wrong," she said, sighing heavily when she'd finally pulled his leg out.

He blinked his golden eyes at her, disbelievingly. "Uh, excuse me if I'm wrong," he said, sounding like he was talking to a child. "But I wouldn't have landed wrong if you hadn't dropped me."

Clary exhaled exasperatedly, blowing at her bangs. "Just shut up or it'll be down the stairs, got it?"

Jace nodded, making the childish hand motion of locking his mouth.

She rolled her eyes and lifted him up once more, careful enough that he wouldn't put any pressure on his leg.

They hobbled down the bleached hallway, Clary already dreading giving him a bath.

EPOV

The hunger for blood...being in a hospital, full of fresh blood and weak blood; healthy hearts and dying hearts.

He raced out of the room, clutching his throat.

He ran with inhuman speed, knowing that to the human eye he was just a blur. As he passed a room, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Being a vampire allowed him to sniff out humans' blood, letting him know how long they would live.

This was a girl probably about eight or nine, with unhealthy blood cells that were slowly killing her. No way in hell would he be drinking from her anytime soon.

She'd probably live for another month or so. Before the leukemia killed her.

But she was the least of his problems.

He needed blood. Badly.

He was on all fours, creeping slowly on the white tiles. He was in the lobby, and the smell...the smell of blood that smelled like peaches and citrus. His mouth watered.

There, standing behind a marble desk, stood a pretty blond receptionist.

His prey.

He crawled forward, curling his lips back, revealing his sharp canines.

She looked up, and screamed. Screamed for help.

But she was too late.

He leaped, fangs bared and claws out.

His teeth sank into her neck, and drained her of her blood.

He pulled away, grinning maniacally. Who cared if he was only allowed to drink blood from the butcher's store?

Who cared if this stupid receptionist was dead?

He stood up, and began to search for more blood.

**Sorry it's taken me awhile to update, I've been grounded. For almost drowning my sister. But it was her fault, trying to pull down my boyfriend's swimsuit at a public pool. *shudders***

**Reviews will earn you a spongebath...**

**EwEw. I meant for Jace...God, I need to get my head outta the gutter...**


	4. Chapter Three

**Sponge bath for Jace! **

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS FLUFF AND NUDITY. EXCUSE ME IF I'M A LITTLE DESCRIPTIVE.**

**ONLY ABOUT A CERTAIN BLONDE'S BATH. AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, THIS IS A FILLER CHAP CUZ I WAS BORED AND WANTED TO UPDATE. **

**I'm wrong like that. **

**Also, a familiar bastard is introduced in this chapter...**

CPOV

Clary'd given sponge baths to many different people. Old people, people who couldn't stand up. She'd never given one to someone her age. Someone who'd hold it against her for the rest of her life if she stared, or, as he was bragging about, drooled.

God, sometimes she really hated her job.

Sometimes, she thought as she helped Jace step into the steamed bath, keeping the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

He slid in, eyes squeezed shut as the hot water licked at his open scars.

For a second, Clary was worried that the water would hurt him, but he gave a soft moan, a sweet sound that the Jace she knew wouldn't be caught dead making.

"Angel?"

He gave a low grunt, the only awknowledgment that he'd heard her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kneeling behind the tub, and began to roll up her sleeves, but stopped herself.

He'd see the scars and bruises that Sebastian had given her.

Not that he'd care. He was just what Sebastian had been before he started to drink and hitting her. Arrogant, cocky, expecting every girl they met to have their legs ready and open.

Clary bit her lip, wondering if Jace would ever be like that.

He probably didn't smoke, because it would've made his hair drab and weak looking. So he didn't smoke weed, something that Sebastian did on Fridays.

He probably drank, but then again, who didn't? She wet the sponge, ignoring her dipping sleeves as she scrubbed relentlessly at his back gently, carefully cleaning the...greenish black flesh?

"Angel? What happened?" She brushed the tip of her finger against one of the scraps of flesh, causing him to shiver violently. She drew her hand back. "Sorry."

"'S'cool. Didn't hurt." He leaned back, against her palm and sighed.

Clary reached around him, and touched his forehead lightly. "I worry about you, sometimes. You know that?"

She felt his grin, her heel of her hand brushing his nose. "Just wait till the voices in my head start talking back."

Clary grinned and gently rubbed his back, her hand still resting on his cheek, him pressing her face in it.

"So," he said finally, startling her. "Tell me about your boyfriend."

She blinked, staring at him.

"Clary?" he asked, when she never answered. "Are you staring?"

"Oh, shut it." she slapped him with a washcloth, causing him to chuckle a little.

"Well, are you going to stare at my oh-so-gorgeous-back, or are you going to answer my question?"

Clary sighed. "There's not much to tell," she finally admitted, dipping the sponge in the bucket next to her, and caressed it on his neck and behind his ear, causing him to hiss a little and stir.

"Angel?"

He settled back again, seeming to get control of himself. "I'm fine. That just...tickled."

Clary snorted, doing it again.

"Dammit, Clary!" Jace shot up, bubbles coating his body, and Clary averted her gaze modestly.

He turned around, sitting down. "Since you are allowed to tickle me, then I'm allowed to know about Mr. Fantastic."

Clary rolled her eyes, sponging his naked chest. It was hard not to notice the hard, golden planesd of his chest, and how his many tattoos licked at his skin, black and charred.

"Do you live with him?"

The question caught her off guard, and she pressed harder against him then neccissary, and he sucked in a painful breath.

"No," she said finally, wiping away the blood she'd drawn with the towel. "No, I don't live with him." Thank God. She'd be dead within a week.

"What's his name?"

"Sebastian."

Jace studied her face, which she kept calmly blank. "How old is he?"

She bit her lip, really not wanting to answer this question.

"Clary?"

She ducked her head, dabbing at his ribs. He pushed her away. "Dammit Clary, how old is he?"

She mumbled something, and he leaned in, not catching what she said. "What?"

"Twenty-nine."

"He's WHAT?"

Clary refused to look up at him, knowing that he was probably furious.

"Forget it."

A warm finger slid under her chin, forcing her to meet his lion eyes. "How old are you, Clary?"

She looked at a scar on his shoulder instead of at him, the scar shaped like a star.

"Look at me."

She did, and knowing immediataly that it was a mistake.

His golden eyes bored into hers, making her feel like glass; see through and fragile.

Knowing he'd ask another nurse or doctor, she sighed and caved. "Twenty-one." She amended quickly. "next week, anyway."

Jace looked disbelieving. "Are you sure?" he leered at her. "You look about eighteen."

She frowned. "Is that an insult or compliment?"

He shrugged. "Both. What's so great about older guys? What's wrong with guys your age?" he peered at her. "What, is he experienced or something?" he rolled his eyes. "It's all about the sex with you girls, huh? Is he even-"

"Jace, SHUT THE HELL UP."

He froze. Probably because she called him by his name.

She couldn't help it. _"It's all about the sex with you girls, huh?" _It'd triggered something in her; disgust, shame, and anger.

"You don't know anything about me, Jace."

She saw him flinch but she didn't care. She wanted-no, _needed_-for him to be scared of her, knowing that Sebastian would beat the crap out of him if he found out about anything.

"Jonathon might've told you some stuff about me when I was younger, but guess what? He doesn't know shit everything, especially since he was gone for three friggin' years."

Jace stared at her. "Aren't you the one who kicked him out?"

"Stop pretending like you know everything about me!" she screamed at him slapping water at his face.

"Stop pretending like you're happy, then. Stop pretending shit isn't happening in your life."

"Fuck you, Jace. _Fuck you to hell."_

He leaned closer so they were nose to nose, his cold breath slapping her face. "I've been told that I'm a good fuck. Thank you for asking."

Clary exhaled sharply through her nostrils, making a snorting sound. "Are you Satan in a mortal's body, or what?'

Jace winked at her. "No mortal has one as big as mine, sugar."

She held up a hand. "Okay. TMI."

He smiled sweetly. "To much innuedo?"

Clary splashed him again, and this time, he splashed her back.

"Angel!"

She grabbed the sponge, and threw it at his face.

Jace grinned, and wrapped brown fingers around the rim of the bucket she'd used to wet the sponge. Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

He winked, pulling it up, and held it over her head. "Sugar, you know I would."

He tilted the bucket, and warm soapy water soaked her. "And it's Jace."

Clary glared at him through her dripping ringlets, rivelets of water trickling all over her body. "To me it'll always be 'Major pain in my ass'."

Jace raised his eyebrows. "Speaking of your ass," he said dryly, ignoring Clary's scowl. "It really stands out when you're wet."

Clary blinked in surprise. "You really need to grow up."

Jace nodded somberly. "My ex-girlfriend can tell you how grown up I am," he told her seriously. "She said I was the most adult person she'd ever screwed."

Clary scrunched her face up in disgust. "There are some things that should never leave the bedroom."

He nodded. "Like Kaelie's virginity?"

Clary sighed, fighting the urge to slap him. "Jace. Just shut up."

To her surprise, he did.

His mouth was tight, his golden eyes suspicous as he staredover her shoulder and at the doorway.

Heart in her throat, Clary turned around to see what he was staring at.

Sebastian stood there, leaning against the doorframe and staring blankly at Clary, who's hands were on Jace's chest as she had just been washing it ten seconds ago.

She quickly tore her hands away, staring at him. "Hey, Sweetheart," she said in a shrill voice that she had whenever she got scared or guilty.

Sebastian stared at her.

Clary began to clear her throat nervously, but before she could open her mouth to explain, Jace pulled himself up in a kneeling position. Clary jerking her head away.

But not before she saw his body.

Her cheeks flamed red. He was right; he was _huge. _

Sebastian saw her cheeks and glared menacinaly at Jace. "Hey buddy," he snarled. "That's _my _girlfriend that's feeling up on you."

Clary bit the inside of her lip nervously. Jace, in his mind's eye, just saw Sebastian as just some drunk pervert.

"_Your_ girlfriend?" Jace sneered. "Dude, get over yourself. She wouldn't go out with a dick like you. If you're thinking that she would, I'd suggest you stop smoking all that weed you reek of, and go fuck someone else."

Sebastian whipped his head to glare at Clary. "So," he drawled. "You've been fuckin' this skinny little blond over here, with a cock as big as a worm."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Look, this bad boy," he raised the 'bad boy' in question, smugly. "Is the size of a anaconda."

"Jace..." Clary couldn't believe her boyfriend and her crush were arguing about the sizes of their cocks.

Wait. Crush?

Jace smirked at her. "See?" he looked at Sebastian. "Even Clary agrees it's huge."

Sebastian looked at her, obviously disgusted. "Clary." His voice was flat. "Get your bony ass over here."

Jace growled. "Don't talk to her like that."

Clary, knowing that things would just be worse if she didn't do anything, stood up, her back to Jace so he couldn't see her expression.

"It's cool, Sebastian. I'm coming."

Jace's head snapped at her. "_That's _Sebastian? _That's _your boyfriend?"

Clary could hear the contempt and disgust in his voice, and for some reason felt guilty, as if she'd been caught cheating.

"Yeah." She made her way to Sebastian, who was standing stiffly at the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on Jace.

"Um, Jace, I'll just tell Elliot to come in and help you with the rest of your bath. Okay?"

He slouched deeper in the water, golden eyes blank and cold. "Do whatever the hell you want. You're the boss."

Even though she'd never admit it to him, him calling her the boss slightly turned her on.

She nodded and left the room, Sebastian trailing behind her.

Elliot was coming in from the lobby, his face tight yet more relaxed than earlier. "Clary," he said with a blinding smile when he saw her.

Clary felt Sebastian stiffen next to her, and knew that he still thought she was sleeping with Elliot.

"Hey, Elliot," she said with forced cheerfullness. "Do you mind putting Jace to bed and sedating him?"

Elliot looked mildly surprised. "You want me to sedate Blondie?"

She nodded. "He's not really happy to be in a hospital, and I think it'll help." It really wouldn't. Jace would be furious when he found out that she'd ordered for him to be sedated.

Elliot shrugged. "Sure. Are you two leaving?" He glanced over at Sebastian.

Clary nodded. "Yeah. Tell Aline and Jace that I'll be back at 7." She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Call me if Jonathon wakes up."

"Oh, okay." He was quiet for a second. "Get Maia and Isabelle to go home too, please."

She frowned. "Why?"

Elliot took a deep, shaky breath. "Nancy. She's dead."

Clary started. "What? What happened?"

He shrugged. "The police are here, they're checking it out. But, Clary." He leaned forward. "They think she was murdered."

gvuv op vvvvvvvvv

Nancy.

The sweet, blond airhead that Clary would hang out with in the mornings, was dead.

Sebastian, practically dragging her out the door, eager to get passed the police, had tried to block her view of the pretty blond. He had his moments.

But Clary had caught a glimpse of her, though. Her throat was torn and red, scarlet blood pooling around her head.

Her stomach lurched, thinking of the blond that had always gave Aline a piece of gum everyday, and who'd always made excuses for Clary whenever she was late for work.

Dead.

Gone.

Murdered.

**Muah! Finished! **

**Next chapter... should it have SimonxIzzy? Or MaiaxLuke? I already know I'm having ClaryxSebastian and ClaryxJace.**

**But I have room *cough*patience*cough* for one other couple.**

**Almost forgot: Magnus and Alec will be in next chapter...;)**


	5. Chapter Four

**This be chapter four. I'll try to make this better than last chap, introducing our favorite gay couple. Well, it's my favorite, anyways. **

**Also, when I read the reviews, I laughed my *** off at 'Size isn't everythin'. *bites lip* I was gonna put that in this chapter, sounds like something Clary would say. **

**And, just to let y'all know, I'm changing the rating to M, for graphic sexual content, I think, and just...other stuff someone my age shouldn't know about. **

**Disclaimer: Yeah, totally forgot. I don't own Luke, Elliot(believe it or not, he's in CoB) Maia, Clary, Jonathon...You get the picture.**

**I own Jace. That's it. **

**Jace: Hell, no! I belong to Clary!**

**Me: NEVER! *tackles him***

**Alec: *clears throat* Let's get along with the chapter, SJ.**

**Magnus the Magnificent: I agree. Let's all read about ME! **

**Jace: You are so GAY.**

**Me: *palms forehead* Please. Just...stop. Stop.**

**Enjoy!**

IPOV

Isabelle frowned in puzzlement, her stilettos clicking on the marble tiles. Elliot had insisted that she went home, due to the fact their receptionist was murdered.

Of course, she'd refused to leave until she found her patient, who was still missing.

Isabelle felt exhausted, and checked her silver square linked watch. 2:14.

"I don't get paid enough," she muttered crossly, crossing her arms roughly and flinging herself against the wall, where she sank slowly to the ground, and thought about Nancy.

She'd barely hung around her that much, but Nancy had been sweet enough to buy her a large black coffee whenever she was hungover and late for work.

Nancy had been new, only working there for two months. But she and Clary had been close, which wasn't normal, for the redhead, who was usually really shy and quiet.

Isabelle closed her eyes, feeling scared and sad at the same time. Who'd want to kill Nancy?

She was cut out of her musings by a growl, and a ripping noise.

Her heart pounded, practically thumping in the silent hallway. Wasn't Nancy's head ripped off her neck? Isabelle stood slowly, and slipped off her stilettos.

She tiptoed softly towards the noise, her heart in her throat.

Then all was silent.

Isabelle was still, willing her breathing to be softer. The noises started again. She started again, and ran on her toes. For once she didn't regret taking ballet when she was younger.

She skidded to a stop outside of the...blood room? WTF?

Isabelle pressed her ear against the metal door, wincing when her earring dug in her earlobe.

There was a slurping noise, and a moan of pleasure. Isabelle fought down a gag. Someone was having sex in the friggin' _blood room? _

Sure, she couldn't be talking, having sex in a supply closet...but the dude died the next day from a heart attack, so it didn't really count.

She was about to walk away and let the kids have their fun, before she heard a throaty yell. "Yes! THANK G-" the voice cut itself off with a choke.

Isabelle winkled her nose. Wonderful. There was something she hated about being a nurse. A lot of somethings. One of them was helping a new mom give birth.

And there was no friggn' way she was going through that tomorrow, on a Saturday.

"Alright," she called through the door. "Put your clothes on, NOW. I'm coming in."

She threw the door open, and her mouth fell open in shock. "Shit."

Her patient stood alone in the blood room, staring at her in shock and embarrassment.

She pointed a shaking finger at him. "Please-please tell me you're not the only one in here."

He stood there, speechless.

"EW!" Isabelle clapped a hand over her eyes. "And I thought walking in on my parents going at it like bunnies would scar me for life."

She dropped her hand, and from his stunned expression, had no clue what she was talking about.

"You _were_ touching yourself, weren't you?"

He blinked. "Why would you think that?"

Isabelle scowled at him. "You will speak of this to no one."

He opened his mouth, but Isabelle cut him off, throwing back her head and making happy, groaning noises, mocking what he'd sounded like before she'd walked in.

His expression was one of shock, and Isabelle would've laughed at it, if she wasn't aware of the sound she'd just made.

"Now answer my question: Were you touching yourself?"

He looked uncomfortable, and she couldn't really blame him.

She would've been humiliated if Raphael had walked in on her fingering herself.

"Yes."

Isabelle twisted her mouth in disgust and in the attempt to hold back her laughter. "Pervert."

He looked offended. "Excuse me, but why d'you care if I am or not?"

Isabelle shrugged. "I don't. But why would you be doing it in here?"

He bit his lip. "I had to do it." he said sheepishly. "It couldn't be helped."

She threw up a hand, causing him to shut up. "That was TMI, sweetie. Shut up before I barf."

He grinned, showing blinding white teeth that were surprisingly sharp. Mmm, what he could do with those sharp teeth...

"It's Simon, not 'sweetie'."

Isabelle blinked, snapped out of her fantasies. "Nice name."

Simon raised an eyebrow at her dry tone. "Was there a reason why you're in here...?"

"Isabelle."

"Was there a reason why you're in here, Isabelle?"

She crossed her slender arms over her not-so-slender chest. "Well, I'm certainly not in here to make myself cum everywhere."

A pink flush rose on his deadly pale cheeks. "Ha ha. Serously. What's your excuse?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes, even though what she really wanted to do was roll them down. "I work here, so I don't really need an excuse."

Simon looked at her skimpy nurse's outfit and frowned slightly. "Weren't you in my room?"

Isabelle nodded, casting her eyes skyward. "You must've really been hard," she said thoughtfully. "Sexy daydream?"

Simon shook his head. "You're one twisted slut," he said disgustedly.

Isabelle blinked, the words hurting more than she'd expected them to. "Whatever. Listen, Simon, you need to get to bed. I'm going home, okay?"

Simon shrugged. "Fine."

He followed followed her silently back up to his room, his footsteps making no sound.

When they reached his room, and Isabelle had shoved him his bed, he asked her one question.

"Hey, Isabelle?"

She didn't turn around. "What?"

"Who has Jace?"

Jace? "Who?"

"The blond one."

She blinked. "Oh, Clary does, I think."

SImon snorted softly. "Poor girl."

Isabelle cleared her throat. "Simon?"

"Hmm?"

"Just so you know, I have to wash your sheets. So...keep your hands still, please?"

"Shut _up_."

Isabelle opened the door slowly, a soft smile teasing the edges of her mouth.

"G'night, Simon," she murmured softly, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Slap. Kick. Punch. "BITCH," Sebastian roared, his fist slamming into Clary's nose, causing a sickening crack.

Clary was curled up in a ball on her apartment floor, cringing everytime Sebastian's foot, hand, or knee came in contact.

"You fuckin' whore," he spat, stomping on her ribs. Clary pressed her fist to her lips, muffling the scream that threatened to leave her mouth.

Screaming would just make things worse.

"So," he said casually, as he threw her against the lime green walls, making her slide to the floor in a broken heap. "Have a good time fucking The Anaconda?"

"Sebastian..." she tried to whisper through the blood in her mouth. "_Shut up!"_ His foot came up, connecting with her chin.

With a muffled cry, Clary fell back to the floor, writhing.

"I was just giving him a sponge bath," she whimpered, as he slammed a cookbook on her spine repeatedly, as if he wanted her backbone to snap.

"Giving a spongebath to that man-whore?" he growled, grabbing her calf and twisting a muscle, causing her to bite her lip so hard it bled to keep from screaming.

"And if you want my advice for you, Clare," he whispered, leaning so he was licking her ear. "I'd stay away from him. He doesn't want an ugly skank like you with curves for shit to fuck with. He prefers pretty attractive girls with experience."

"Leave me alone." He bit down on her ear, hard enough so her lobe bled. "You know it's true," he murmured, licking away the blood. "You're hideous and an unexperienced virgin. I don't know how I put up with you."

Clary gave a shaky breath, wishing she was Isabelle, or Maia. Neither of them cared what people said about them, or let themselves get pushed around, or better yet, beaten.

"Please," she whispered, twisting on the floor, his hand slipping under her waistband. "Please don't touch me."

His finger slid up, and Clary screamed in pain. Sebastian mistakened her scream for pleasure, and shoved his finger in and out faster, and rougher.

"Stop," she screamed, struggling to free herself herself from his evil finger.

Sebastian let out a growl, and slapped her across the face. Hard.

Clary's head snapped to the side, blood outlining her vision. "Sebastian," she managed to choke out through the blood. "Please stop."

Sebastian let out a snarl, his hand closing around her throat. "You know you don't mean that," he breathed in her ear.

"I do."

Sebastian let out a hiss, pushing himself off of her. "Are you sure you want to wait until tomorrow?" he asked in a voice that didn't care, because he knew he would get his way either way, and fuck her.

"Positive."

Sebastian sighed, and released her throat. "Fine." He glared down at her. "Clean up your face. I don't want someone with shit on their face when they're holding my dick in their mouth."

She felt like vomiting at the very thought.

Sebastian left, the door slamming behind him.

Clary sat up slowly, pausing cautiously before remembering that it was Friday night, and Sebastian had left to get stoned.

She clawed her way to her bathroom, bile rising in her throat. Clary'd barely reached the toilet when the nausea hit, a hot fist clenching her stomach tightly.

She clutched the bowl, emptying her stomach in her toilet, throwing up for the second time that day.

Christ, she thought with bitter amusement as she scrubbed her tired face with a wet washcloth. She'd lost so much weight from gagging, Maia had told her she looked like one of those chics that made themselves sic to lose weight.

Clary looked at her reflection, surprised to see that the girl in the mirror looked nothing like her at all.

The girl in the mirror was short, with soft, lush curves and waist-length wavy red hair and emerald eyes. But her green eyes were blank and dull, her hair had lost it's volume.

Her skin, which had once been a pretty porcelain color, was now a grayish white.

Sebastian was doing this to her.

She frowned bitterly, yanking her sleeves over the bruises and scars, and gently washed away the makeup, revealing a faded black eye and a large, purpling bruise on her left temple, from where he'd thrown her against the wall.

Clary gave a shuddering breath, and wondered how Jace would react if he saw her bruises.

She wondered if he'd be all upset that she hadn't told anyone sooner, or if he'd want to beat the crap out of Sebastian.

Probably he wouldn't care. It's not like anybody did.

SimonLewisIsAHugeGeekSaidJace

Elliot walked in and looked at Maia curiously, who hadn't noticed him coming in. She was talking to the patient, animatedly waving her arms around and telling him about...something that Elliot didn't even bother trying to understand.

"Maia," he said, cutting her off.

She jumped a little, spinning around to look at him. "'Sup?"

Elliot glanced at her patient, who was staring at Maia intently, as if she held all of the answers he needed.

Elliot smirked inwardly. Idiot.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Maia shrugged and stood up, following Elliot in the hallway. "What's wrong?"

Elliot tugged nervously at a dreadlock. "Well, you know Nancy?"

Maia nodded. Nancy was her homegirl. "What about her?"

Elliot took a deep breath. "She's dead."

Maia stared at him for a minute. "That isn't funny, Elliot."

Elliot frowned at her. "I'm not laughing."

She blinked at his serious tone. Elliot, who was never serious.

Maia slid slowly to the floor, back pressed to the wall. "What happened?"

Elliot looked at her. "She was murdered. Neck ripped open."

Maia clapped her hands over her ears, trying to drown out his voice.

"...Police said either it was a killer or a wild animal that snuck in-"

"SHUT UP." Maia squeezed her eyes shut, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Elliot looked at her pityingly. "Her wake will be on Sunday. Her parents are Catholic and wanted it to be on a holy day."

Maia looked up. "Nancy was religous?" She didn't have any control of her mouth. Her brain felt fuzzy and light, and she felt high.

Elliot knelt in front of her. "Whatever killed her, I don't want to get you. Go home, Maia."

Maia looked at him, unseeingly. "Later," she mumbled. "Can I see her?"

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not expecting that. "I don't know...The police are checking her out."

Maia shook her head, standing up. "I _need _to see her, Elliot." She needed to see if her friend was really dead.

He sighed. "She's in the lobby." He stood up. "I'm going home. You should do the same."

He walked down the hall, his steps silent.

Maia stared after him, before standing up slowly, and smacked her nose against a muscled chest.

"Maia?"

She pushed herself away, and found herself staring up into a pair of deep blue eyes.

"Luke."

He tilted his head, his youthful face curious. "What's wrong?"

Maia shook her head. "My friend..." He frowned questioningly. "She's been murdered."

Luke's face softened. "You want me to go with you?"

She knitted her eyebrows together. Why would he? He didn't know her. "Sure."

Maia led the way down the hall, Luke holding her hand.

The lobby was almost almost unrecognizable, yellow tape linking over the walls and furniture, men in uniforms pascing around and arguing with eachother.

And in the midst of it all, laid the pretty blond.

Nancy, like the room, was unrecognizable, her blond hair soaked with blood and weak looking, her skin a dead gray color. Bloodless looking.

Maia gasped when she saw Nancy's neck.

It was torn; ripped to bloody ribbons. Blood surrounded her like a puddle, staining her ripped clothes scarlet.

Maia's legs gave out, and if Luke's arms hadn't closed around her waist, she would've collapsed.

"Oh, my God." She put a shaking hand over her mouth. "Oh, my _God,_ Luke. _Look _at her. _Look at her." _

"Shh." His warm breath and warm voice caressed her ear gently. "It's alright. I'm here."

"She's _dead_, Luke. Who'd want to murder her?"

Maia felt herself being carried bridal style by Luke, but she didn't notice all to much. Her face was buried in his chest, and let tears fall that had threatened to fall all year, caused by Jordan and Daniel.

That was how Clary found them in the morning. Luke, sitting on his bed, with Maia, asleep on his lap, tear stains on her cheeks. Maia, who never cried.

"I've got you, Maia." Luke whispered in the ear as she cried herself to sleep. "I'm not going anywhere."

IAmNotRetortedSimon

Clary knocked lightly on Aline's door, checking her makeup in her compact mirror one last time.

"Go away," Aline's soft voice called.

She swung open the door, to see the pretty Asian girl gone.

"Aline?"

"I said go away," Aline said, her soft voice muffled.

Clary saw the body-shaped lump on the girl's bed, and rolled her eyes. "Aline, come out."

"No."

"C'mon, Al." Clary walked over to the side of the bed, and tried, unsuccessively to pull the covers off Aline. "Come out."

_"I said NO."_

Clary blinked, and took a step back, despite herself. "Alien?" It was her pet name for Aline. "Alien. Get your Asian ass out of that bed, or God so help me I'll haul it out myself."

"No need to get racist." The covers started to move.

"I wasn't-" Clary stopped, slapping her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Aline," she whispered sadly.

Her hair was gone. Not one strand of that silky ebony hair remained on her head.

Aline's dark almond-shaped eyes were filled with tears. "It all fell out last night, Clary," she whispered, fingering a strand of dark hair that lay on her pillow.

"I'm so sorry, Alien." Clary pulled the bald girl in an embrace, stroking her stubbly head.

Aline sobbed in Clary's chest, wetting her uniform, but Clary couldn't care less. Aline had always fussed over how the medicine would eventually make her lose all her hair, and Clary and Isabelle would tease her for her worries. Now she regretted it.

"You know what we could do.." Clary pulled the girl away, looking her in the eyes. "We _could_ go shopping for wigs today."

Aline gave a watery smile. "Yeah. Can I pick 'em out?"

Clary grinned at her. "Whatever you want."

Aline blinked away the tears, as if remembering something. "What does 'suck my dick, bastard' mean?"

Seconds later, Clary was stomping in Jace's room, her gaze deadly.

Jace was sitting in his bed, entertaining himself with the IVs.

"YOU." Clary pointed a finger at him, saying the word like she had a worm in her mouth.

Jace looked up, expression indifferent. "Me."

"You _bastard_." she spat out the word. "You swore in front of a friggin' eight-year-old!"

Jace shrugged. "You probably had that eight-year-old drugged too, so I don't see why I'm in trouble."

She opened and closed her mouth, pretty sure she resembeled a fish.

"That's very attractive," Jace commented, snapping her out of her speechless rage. "You should do it more often."

Clary's mouth snapped shut, and she glared at him.

Jace nodded. "Much better." He looked at her thoughtfully for a minute. Then asked quietly, "Why did you have me drugged, Clary?"

She sighed, and leaned against the doorway. "I don't know. I guess I felt guilty for leaving you alone in a building full of sick people."

"So you had a creepy doctor dress me and then stick a needle in my arm." he nodded in mock understanding.

Clary raked a hand through her thick curls. "Jace-"

"Don't 'Jace' me. Sugar, I thought the dude was giving me a freakin' ruffie!"

"Oh, get over yourself!" Clary straightened, her green eyes blazing angrily. "If you don't like the way I'm taking care of you, I can always get you another nurse!"

Jace looked taken aback. "Clary, I-"

"Leave me alone, renob." Clary turned away. "And just so you know, size isn't everything."

Jace frowned at her. "You're the first girl I've heard say that." he pondered it for half a second. "Renob? What the hell is a _renob_?"

Clary bit her lip. "I'll be back later, renob boy."

She started to walk away, when she heard Jace mutter, "And why in the hell is she limping?"

Clary limped into the lobby, taking her spot behind the receptionist desk. God, that blond pissed her OFF sometimes. No, make that ALL the time.

The hospital door swung open, and Clary looked up, praying it wasn't another group of dying boys.

She blinked. No, it was just two boys. And one girl.

The boys were obviously an item. One was freakishly tall-easily 6"4-while the other was just 6"2. The tall one was as thin as a rail, his inky hair spiked up and covered in...glitter?

Lots of glitter.

He wore a purple silk shirt and skin tight black leather pants. Glitter covered his face, clothes.

Clary stared at his bright choice of clothes and makeup, and wondered if her eyesight would ever be the same. The other boy, believe it or not, was the exact opposite, wearing a faded dark sweater and torn faded jeans.

The tall boy looked half-Asian, like Aline was. The shorter boy had a shock of black hair and bottle blue eyes that were easily shy, his skin creamy.

The girl was beautiful, so beautiful that Clary would've been jealous if she didn't value beauty, like every artist.

She had long wavy blond hair and pretty crystal blue eyes. Her face was heart-shaped, and she was average height, and wore four inch strappy heels, her clothes normal. Blue tank top and white khakis.

Clary smiled at them when they walked up to the desk. "Since you three look healthy enough, I take it you're here to visit someone?"

The blond nodded and smiled shyly, and the Asian boy nodded and rolled his eyes. "Alec here," he jerked his thumb at the boy. "Wanted to see his brother. I came for moral support."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Cool. Are you with them?" she looked at the blond, who nodded.

Clary took a quick breath. "Okay. I'll need your names then I'll take yout o your brother."

"And his friends," the blond quickly added, speaking for the first time.

"'Kay."

"I'm Magnus Bane, the Magnificent," the Asian boy declared. The other boy, Alec, rolled his eyes at Clary. "Ignore him," he said apologetically. "I'm Alec Lightwood. And she's Kaelie Herondale." He pointed to the blond.

Clary recognized the name. "Your Jace's girlfriend."

Kaelie looked at her quickly and suspicously, and Clary couldn't really blame her. Girls must've flirted with him all the time, and undoubtfully he flirted back.

"He talked about you," she reassured her. Kaelie smiled happily.

Alec grinned as Clary scribbled their names on the sign in sheet. "Jace hit on you a lot?"

Clary rolled her eyes exasperatedly and nodded. "That renob thinks he's a freakin' _God_."

Magnus snorted. "I like you already," he said cheerfully. Kaelie smiled at her. "Thanks for not flirting back." she looked at her feet. "He's not really committed."

Clary nodded understandingly. "Boys can be such asses sometimes. And don't worry." she glanced over her shoulder. "I have a boyfriend."

She led the three down the hall for them to see Jace, noticing the way Magnus looked at Alec, and the way Alec would struggle not to look back.

Kaelie, she learned, was a sweet girl. A little airhead, like Nancy, but sweet neverless.

She stopped outside of Jace's door, poking her head in. "May I present," she announced dramatically, earning a surprised look from Jace.

"Magnus the Magnificent!" Magnus strutted in, hands on his hips. Jace clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned.

"Alec the...uh." Clary glanced at him. "What, exactly?"

"ALEC!" Alec strutted in, mocking Magnus.

Jace rolled his eyes and snorted.

"And Kaelie, the Beautious!"

Kaelie didn't bother strutting in, instead throwing herself at Jace and hugging him, obviously relieved.

Jace hugged her back, grinning.

Clary looked at the two of them embracing, and couldn't help but feel a little sick.

Jace obviously loved Kaelie, who loved him back.

She couldn't help but feel a little envious that Kaelie had a boyfriend who loved her, not beat her up, physically and verbally.

At least she pretended that's why she was envious.

Because she was walking out to go check on Aline, and her back was to him, Clary didn't notice Jace's reluctant golden eyes watching her carefully over Kaelie's shoulder.

**Magnus: You so totally did NOT have enough of me in there!**

**Jace: Who cares? What I want to know is why you didn't have me naked in this!"**

**Me: Because I'm tired of taking so many cold showers!**

**Clary: Why's he with Kaelie?**

**Me: Why isn't he with me?**

**Jace: Whatever. Get on with the lemons.**

**Me: Only if it's with you and me, baby.**

**Jace: ...**

**Clary: He's MINE bitch *jumps on me***

**Jace: She's so sexy when she's mad.**

**Me: *yells over Clary's screams* Guess what a renob is?**

**Magnus: Something that rhymes with 'snob'?**

**Me: Nope. It's what Jace is whenever he sees me with a skirt on.**

**Jace: ...Scared?**

**Me: Fuck me.**

**Jace: *hides behind Magnus* **

**Me: Whoever can guess what a renob is gets a cookie.**

** Clary: Jace wants my cookie.**

**Me: *slaps her* When Jonathpn wakes up...should he be evil?**

**Evil Jonathon: *storms in* I'll kill you ALL! *stabs Clary***

**Me: *rolls eyes* FINALLY. I thought she'd never die. **

**Good Jonathon: *runs in and kills Evil Jonathon* DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!**

**Voldemort: YOU WILL ALLL DIE *cackles evilly before disappearing***

**Jace: Awkward...**

**Me: Aww, I liked Evil Jonathon!**

**Jace: *wiggles eyebrows* You like me better.**

**Me: Nah. I like Magnus better.**

**Magnus: Oh, God.**

**REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter Five

**Let me start off my saying SHIT. Or would you prefer sorry? I couldn't write. I had no inspiration or idea about what to write. So if this chapter sucks, tell me and I won't be offended, I'll agree with you.**

**Also, ideas are welcome, flames...not so much. (Not that I've gotten any...) **

**Me: I read the reviews. Dammit. And I thought I invented renob...**

**Magnus: I think that's why your mom's been trying to get you to walk outside for months now.**

**Jace: For all of those who guessed BONER, you get a cookie!**

**Me:...**

**Jace:...**

**Magnus:LOL:)**

**Me: Dumb song. **

**Magnus:...**

**Jace:*attempts to break awkward silence* Do you realize how offensive your penname was?**

**Me: You realize how mother fuckin', ass smellin' true it is?**

**Jace: Son of a...that was _you?_**

**Me:You're sexy when you sing in the shower.**

**Magnus: *grinning* What song?**

**Me: *touching myself* Unthinkable, by Alicia Keys.**

**Jace: No comment.**

**Magnus:... **

**Me: *gets lost in Jace's eyes* New chapter. **

Magnus turned to look at Jace, who was busy shoving his tongue down his girlfriend's throat.

"So, Highnass," Magnus cleared his throat. Jace pulled away from Kaelie with an annoyed expression on his face. "What do you want, Gagnus?"

Magnus smiled at the pretty blond sitting on Jace's lap. "Can I talk to your boy-toy for minute, Doll?"

Kaelie grinned at him, standing up. "Sure thing." she winked a blue eye at Jace. "Make sure you don't turn him into a rat."

Alec snorted. "Yeah. Remember what happened to Simon..."

Jace scoffed. "That retard had it coming."

Magnus nodded. "He shouldn't have tried to steal all of my glitter," he agreed somberly.

Kaelie rolled her eyes. "Seriously. I had to let that thing sleep in my thongs. Jace pulls them off-"

"You should leave now." Magnus looked sickened.

Kaelie giggled and pecked Jace briefly on the cheek before disappearing out of the room.

Magnus spun and cocked an eyebrow at Jace. "So."

Jace stared back. "So."

Alec raised an eyebrow at them. "So?"

Jace rolled his eyes at him. "So what?"

Magnus sat down at the foot of his bed, gripping his electric blue nails in his feet when Jace tried to kick him off.

"What's going on between you and the Red Hot Nurse?"

Alec glanced at Jace sharply, annoyance in his gaze. "Seriously, Jace?" he demanded tiredly. "You know how pissed Kaelie gets when you cheat on her."

Magnus nodded. "All she ate was cookie dough and chocolate for weeks."

"And watched 'Secret Life of the American Teenager' or somethin' like that," Alec threw in.

Jace sighed. "She forgave me," he pointed out.

Magnus frowned at him. "After the sex. You know you're a horrible slut, taking advantage of her love for you?"

Jace smirked. "Actually, I'm an amazing fuck."

Alec groaned. "You know that's not what he means. She loves you and you throw it in her face."

Magnus bit his lip. "So, Clary, huh?"

Jace looked immediataly suspicous. "You're gay, and she's off limits."

Magnus snorted. "Like that's ever stopped you."

Alec released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Are Jonathon and Simon alright?" He asked.

"And Luke?"

Jace shrugged. "Fuck if I know. Clary only let me outta here once, to give me a sponge bath."

"Whore," Magnus muttered.

Jace shot him a glare. "Her boyfriend walked in while she was washing me, and he had a total bitch."

Alec raised his eyebrows. "If my girlfirend was feeling up on you, I'd be pissed, too."

Magnus stared at him in horror. "You have a girlfriend?"

Jace snorted. "You two need a fuckin' room."

They both glared at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jace!" They both yelled.

Jace raised both hands in defense. "Fine, fine."

He was quiet while Alec and Magnus glared angrily at eachother. "Hey, gaywads," Jace said finally, earning himself a middle finger and a scowl. "Did either of you notice Clary limp?"

Magnus rolled his cat eyes. "Being gay, I do not check out women's legs."

Alec looked at him guiltily. "Actually, I sorta noticed her limping."

Jace, instead of pointing out the fact Alec had been checking out the redhead, was suddenly angry looking. "Why the hell does she work if she's in fuckin' pain?"

The other two shrugged. Magnus scrunched his inky eyebrows together. "Why doesn't she have any crutches?"

Alec nibbled on his lower lip. "Maybe she's scared of hospitals," he offered.

Jace snorted, and Magnus just stared at him.

He scowled, obviously not getting it. "What's so funny?"

Magnus gave a little cough, and Jace smirked at Alec, mentally letting him know he'd never let him live this down.

"Why the hell would she work at a hospital if she's scared of them, Sherlock?"

"Oh." Alec blushed and looked away. "Right. So. Do you think the others are alright?"

Magnus looked at Jace, giving him a lazy smirk. "I'll go check on them. Maybe I can get your girlfriend to come in and entertain you."

Alec shook his head. "I'll stay too."

Hiding the hurt he hoped wasn't to evident in his eyes, Magnus nodded. "Both of you keep your hands to yourselves. I'm out of cookie dough."

JaceWillJustBreakAlec'sHeart

Magnus stormed down the hallway, too angry to see where he was going.

That goddamn Shadowhunter was like a frickin' boomerang. You throw him, he comes back. But then he has to go back.

He loved Jace, who couldn't care less if Alec killed, let alone _died_ for him.

He felt like hitting a frickin' wall, or send a electric shock wave at someone. Anyone. Magnus closed his eyes and sighed. He loved Alec. Alec...He played with his emotions; Kissing him passionately one second, going back to brooding about Jace the next.

He was so angry he didn't notice the girl before it was too late. Smacking right into her, they both crumpled to the ground. And it takes a lot to knock the High Warock of Brooklyn down, let me tell you.

A pretty black girl with dozens of braids held together by extension cords rubbed her head gently, which had struck the wall when she'd fallen.

Judging from the nurse's outfit, Magnus took a wild guess that she worked there.

"I'm so sorry," she said apologetically, standing up and bending down, offering Magnus her hand.

The sweet gesture surprised him, but he took her hand anyways. "I was just looking for one of my friends," Magnus explained, remembering that the hospital didn't open for another hour.

The girl shrugged. "'S'cool. Who's your friend?"

Magnus frowned thoughtfully. "Three of them, actually."

She cocked her head. "Is Luke one of them?"

Magnus's eyes widened. "Um, yeah. He's my friend."

She smiled. "Mine too. My name's Maia, by the way." Magnus shook her hand. "Magnus."

Maia grinned. "Really? Cool name. _Magn_ means magnificent in Latin, you know."

He did know, but it was nice to be reminded.

"I guess you wanna see Luke?"

Magnus nodded hopefully. Luke was the empathetic man out of the group. Hopefully he could give him some pointers about Alec.

"Are you close with Jonathon?" Her words caught him by surprise, so surprised he almost tripped.

"What do you know about Jonathon?" he demanded.

She looked at him oddly. "He's my friend's older brother."

"Who's your friend?"

"Clary."

Clary. Dammit. _That _was why her name sounded so freakin' familiar!

"We know eachother." His words were icy and cool, and if Maia was any other girl she would've ran away.

"Alright then. Luke," she called through the closed door. "A friend's here to see you."

Luke&MaiaNeverEatCheese

"Hey, man. What's up?"

Magnus grinned at his friend. Luke was like a rock; unmovable and dependable, especially when it came to emotional problems.

"The usual. Pain, deceit, drugs, sex, magic, and Alec."

Luke snorted. "It's all about Alec, huh?"

"And Jace."

Luke winked. "Can't forget about our favorite blond."

Magnus sighed. "So. You and Maia seem to be close?" he wiggled his eyebrows, causing Luke to blush. "Shut up, Magnus."

Magnus widened his eyes mockingly. "You fuck her yet?"

Luke hit him upside the head. "Christ, no," he said disgustedly. "You know I wait until she isn't a virgin."

"What makes you think she isn't?"

Luke muttered something very impolite about warlocks under his breath. "What's up with you and our blue-eyed Shadowhunter?"

Magnus sighed uncomfortably. The only time he usually opened up about his feelings, tossing aside the sarcasm and insults and teasing, was around Alec and Luke.

But since Alec obviously couldn't stand the sight of him at the moment, Luke was the remaining option.

"I don't know, Wolfie," he told him truthfully. "One minute things are great, next thing you know, he's panting over the cocky bastard."

Luke frowned thoughtfully at him. Being a wolf, he'd learned much about self-control, and that usually made him the peacemaker of the group.

"You should give him some time, bro," he told him after awhile. "You know how his parents react to homosexuals."

Magnus rolled his eyes. Yes, he did know how Maryse and Robert Lightwood reacted to gays and lesbians. They would disown Alec and possibly strip him of his scars, and he'd be shunned for the rest of his life, mundane or Shadowhunter.

"He's twenty-three, Luke," Magnus said exasperatedly. "Why should he care what they think? He needs to move out."

Luke's blue eyes saddened, and Magnus instantly kicked himself. Of course. Max. Alec's younger brother who'd been murdered when he was nine.

Luke, who'd bought a bookstore when he was nineteen, despite being a Shadowhunter, was close to the Lightwood boy, who'd stay at the Garroway's Books during the weekends, wrapped up in anime.

Luke had been a promising Shadowhunter before he'd been bitten. Now he wasn't even allowed to visit Idris.

"His parents need him, Mag," Luke said tiredly. Magnus nodded, not looking at him. He'd stay away from Alec, to make him and his parents happy.

"Maia seems nice," he said quietly, keeping his voice devoid of humor and malice for his friend's sake. He didn't miss how Luke's eyes brightened just at the sound of her name.

"Yeah, Maia's one sexy bitch."

Magnus smiled sadly at the wolf. "I doubt your fiancee would agree, buddy."

WHATTHEFUCK?

"I can't fuckin' _believe_ him! Who does he think he is, hitting on me like that?"

"Alec..."

"High Warlock my ass! All he does in Brooklyn is see how many guys he can fuck in their mouths, and expects me to be the same."

"Alec, dude..." Sure, Alec was his friend and all, practically his brother, but he was really giving him a fuckin' headache.

Magnus, he knew, loved Alec, who was too embarrassed with his attractions to notice.

"And he blames my refusals on _you_! I mean, why the fuck would he think I'd-" Alec clapped a hand over his mouth, obviously humiliated with himself.

Jace rolled his eyes, and said while Alec was quiet, "You know I'm straight, so I don't see why you keep pining me when you have the definition of soul mate panting at your heels."

Alec flinched from Jace as if he'd burned him. "How-could you-how can you _say_ that?"

Jace's face was emotionless when he answered. "Even though Magnus would beg to differ, I'm not retarded. You've been crushing on me since we were fourteen."

Alec didn't say anything.

Jace sighed. "Magnus loves you, dude. If you don't love him back, you might as well tell him and go to a gay bar."

"Gay bar?" Jace and Alec snapped their heads up to see a tall, glamorous, girl with ink black hair spilling to her hips like a waterfall, standing in the doorway, her onyx eyes curious. "Which one of you is gay?"

Alec, blushing furiously, pointed at himself.

The girl didn't seem fazed by the fact. "I guess what they say about gay men isn't true," she said, sighing sadly.

Jace raised his eyebrows. "What's that?"

"That gay men have great fashion sense." She gave Alec's attire a look, her expression disdainful.

Jace laughed so hard he had a coughing fit, obviously thinking of Magnus.

Alec looked mournfully at his faded dark sweater and worn jeans. "These don't have any holes in them, do they?"

The young nurse shook her head. "Don't worry out it. I was just wondering if his name was Jace." She pointed at the blond.

Jace cocked a golden eyebrow. "Clary bragging about me again?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Ha. I thought Elliot was taking care of you."

Jace frowned slightly, obviously surprised Clary wasn't talking about him. "Whatever. What'd you want?"

She leaned against the doorway, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Simon wants to talk to you. Why, I don't know."

Simon?

He flashed her a grin that usually made girls hypervenilate. "Poor thing. You have to put up with that dorky parasite."

She sneered. "Funny. He said the same about you."

Jace shrugged neutrually; Simon's jabs never really affected him. "I'll see the pussy," he told the girl, ignoring Alec's attempts to cut him off with a scowl. "If you tell me a little bit about that little firecracker you seem to know so much about."

The girl looked faintly amused if not a bit worried. "I dunno..."

Alec could sense her discomfort radiating off her in waves. "Just the basics," he threw in, shooting a look at Jace,who looked peeved by Alec's suggestion, but kept quiet, none the less.

"But not the crap her brother told us," Jace muttered, recalling Clary's little tantrum.

The girl looked at them in surprise. "You guys know Jonathon?"

Jace exhaled heavily, causing his curly fringe to brush his cheekbones. He was going to kill his _parabati _when he woke up.

"Yes, we know a bastard named Jonathon," he said, practically growling with exasperation. "Now move your ass, little girl, so we can see that rotting creep, and then I'll go see my dear friend Johnny."

The girl scowled and rolled her eyes. "It's Isabelle not 'little girl'." She snorted, the first unladylike thing he'd expect to hear from her, besides swearing.

"Pretty name," Jace drawled as he dodged around her towering form. "It means beautiful in French."

Isabelle looked after them as they loped down to Simon's room. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she muttered finally.

IPOV

The blond boy was just too pretty. And she was in no fuckin' mood for a competition.

EPOV (Edward's point of view...*coughs*)

They knew. He could tell by the way they shot him wary, suspicous glances. They didn't trust him, and they probably knew what he was.

The wolf boy would smell the undead stink, and the vamp boy would smell the human blood on him.

Angel boy knew, he had to. As for the girls...He could be rip open their throat and they would just think he was giving them hickeys.

he smiled quietly to himself as he passed one of the occuppied rooms, and was only faintly surprised when he smelled a new scent; new blood.

"I'll forever be yours, my love," a soft girl's voice so soft no human would hear. "He does not matter. he never did. Together, me and you will complete what he couldn't."

Huh. Didn't humans give up on world domination in the 1500's?

APOV

Alec left Jace and the girl, Isabelle, and decided he'd look for Simon himself. Jace was oblivious to it, but he noticed Isabelle's tender eyes as she spoke of their vampire friend.

She couldn't have a crush on him _already_, did she? Simon was good-looking but Jace-Just as his thoughts wondered to the golden haired boy, his mind snapped like a rubber band, and instead of gold, all he saw was rainbows.

Rainbows of colors,and eyes of a cat.

He shook his head sternly. He was _not _gay. He _was_ straight. So what if he'd never been sexually attracted to a girl in his twenty-four years of living?

There was a first time for everything, right?

Take that pretty brunette, sitting alone in the cafetaria. She was exactly the kind of girl that Jace would call 'sex on legs'.

She looked nothing like a walking piece of sex. She looked like all girls, dumb, airheaded, and looked like all they cared about was their hair, makeup, boys and parties.

_Just like Magnus._

Alec sighed and raked a hand through his shock of black hair. No, not like Magnus. Magnus was special, different.

A dose of girl might cure him.

Taking a shaky breath, Alec straightened and walked in what he hoped was a confident manner, to the cafetaria.

MPOV

Magnus walked down the hall, wondering whether or not if he'd find Alec. He was passing Jonathon's door when the door swung open, and he stumbled from the force of the steely door against his chest. _"Kaelie?"_

The blond glanced down at him with surprise. "Magnus? What are you doing on the floor?"

Magnus sighed. "I'm shining the floor with my magnificent butt. Join me?"

Kaelie frowned quizically, stepping back a little. "Um, no thanks."

Magnus frowned after her as she clicked away, probably looking for her pretty boyfriend.

Sticking his head a little in the doorway, he felt his eyes widen a bit when he saw an awake Jonathon staring at him.

"Magnus."

Magnus nodded in awknowledgment before standing up. He'd never really liked the dark-haired boy. He was always trying too hard, always being nice too everyone, even his _parabati._

"I should go," he said quickly, feeling Jonathon's pitless eyes boring into his back.

Sebastian=TotalDoucheBag

Magnus walked into the lobby, throat burning with curiousity. Why was Kaelie with Jonathon? Why was Jace so caught up with Clary? Why did Clary wear so much makeup, especially on her eyes and cheekbones? And why was she wearing longsleeved shirts in this weather?

And her limp...

And why was Alec sitting in the cafetaria, letting some slutty bimbo shove her boobs up into his face?

...Wait, what?

Magnus let his jaw fall open. What. The. Hell.

"Magnus?"

He spun around from the disturbing scene, coming face-to-face with a certain red-head, who was holding the hand of a small Asian girl. "What's wrong with your jaw? Is it numb? Broken? Do you-"

"Clary, _chill_." Magnus rolled his eyes. "No need to go nurse on me."

"Why would she be _on_ you?" Magnus glanced down at the Asian girl, who wore a...silk turban wrapped around her head?

He glanced at Clary, eyebrows raised.

She scowled, silently threatening him. Her message was clear: Say anything about the turban, and I kick your ass.

"You leaving?"

Clary nodded. "It's my lunch-break," she explained. "So I'm going shopping." Her eyes widened and she lowered her voice. "If Isabelle hears us, she'll haul ass to the mall and buy crap I don't need, so if you're coming, be quick and quiet."

Magnus grinned at her, musing about how easy it was to talk to the redhead nurse.

Yeah, she and Jace would be a good couple.

JaceIsBadass

"Can I get this one? Please, Clary?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Which one do you _have_ to have now, Aline?"

Aline stuck her tongue out her nurse. "THIS one," she announced proudly, showing her a pretty black bob wig. Magnus, who was standing next to Clary, clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Darling, darling. Don't you think that one makes you look about thirty?"

Aline's eyes widened, and she threw the wig as if it'd burned her. "Does it?"

Clary shook her head in disgust. "You hang around Isabelle _way_ too much. You know that?"

Magnus sighed dramatically. "You straight people have no fashion taste, at _all_."

Aline shrugged. "Whatever," she said, unoffended by his comment. "I just don't want to look older than Clary."

Clary tried to raise an eyebrow, but ended up making an eye-twitching motion, her eyebrows scrunching together. She looked contorted.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded playfully. Magnus turned his back on their bickering picking up a black wig.

It was medium length, it'd probably run half-way down her back.

It was layered; with straight heavy bangs. Perfect.

He snuck up from behind Aline, dropping the wig on her head.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, stroking softly at the silky hair.

"Oh. My. Freakin'. GOD!" Clary squealed. She freakin' _squealed_. "Magnus! Youre a genius!"

Magnus grinned at Aline, who seemed to be at loss for words, staring at herself.

"I like it." Her voice was quiet. Emotionless. Clary shot Magnus a worried look. "Don't you like it, sweetie?"

Aline shrugged. "Mama has hair like this," she whispered finally.

Clary stiffened, and her eyes went flat.

"Do you think Mama and Daddy would like my hair?"

Clary nodded. "They'd love it, Alien." She kissed the girl on her forehead, and Magnus shuffled awa to look at the sparkly hair gel, feeling as if he was intruding in a personal moment.

APOV

The brunette, Ciara, was annoying and boring.

She kept giggling at whatever he said, and kept stroking a finger along her plastic chest. Was she pleasuring herself?

And why did she keep blinking at him? Did she have a twitch?

God, girls were weird.

"Alex." Ciara's breathy voice cut through his musings. "Am I pretty?"

"It's Alec." He looked at her emotionlessly. "And I guess you're pretty..." One time, when Kaelie had asked him what he thought of her new jeans, he told her it made her ass look like a boat.

After that dreadful night, he realized you were supposed to lie about a girl's looks.

He touched the scar behind his ear and winced, remembering Kaelie's flying stilletto.

Ciara smiled up at him. "Reeaaalllly?" Again with the eye twitching.

Alec nodded, unsure of where she was getting at.

"I think you're cute, Alex," she breathed, leaning forward. "Really cute."

_Why's she closing her eyes? Shit, why the hell is her tongue sticking out?...Ew! Ew! _

Those were Alec's last thoughts before Ciara planted her plump, fake lips on his.

**Me: Ooooh, Alec. You bad boy.**

**Alec: Not my fault. The bitch started it.**

**Me: WHY THE HELL DID YOU KISS A BIMBO AND NOT ME?**

**Alec: I'm not interested in you..**

**Me: BASTARD! Jace hates me, Magnus thinks I'm weird, and Mommy thinks I'm high most of the time, and Fang thinks I'm to spazzy! What does it take to get you guys in bed?**

**Fang: You have to be a girl.**

**Me: *hurls myslef at him* *punch* *kick* **

**Fang: HELP!**

**Jace: Dude, she's definitely a girl. **

**Clary: And how the hell do you know THAT?**

**Jace: Uh...**

**Me: Review and Fang might live. Maybe.**


	7. Chapter Six

Okay, I feel horrible. I haven't been updating 24/7 anymore. I'm burned out. This is just a fluffy/filler chapter.

JPOV

_His dream was the same as it'd been after Abbadon had taken a swing at him. _

_He was standing in front of a building, almost a castle, it was so big. Jonathon stood in the entrance, holding a beautiful redhead by her fiery hair, which was wildly curly, unlike the flatness he'd come to remember her by. _

_Jonathon held a silver dagger to her throat, his empty eyes empty and crazy looking. _

_He pressed it deeper against Clary's fair skin, the edge biting into her throat._

"_Let her go," Jace yelled, struggling to reach her. He couldn't move. He frowned down at himself, only to realize thin white arms were wrapped around him, refusing to let him move._

"_Kill her," the person holding him hissed hatefully. "Get the stupid bitch out of our lives."_

"_NO," Jace screamed, pulling away from the person holding him. "No! Not her!"_

_Jonathon grinned evilly, hate in his eyes. "Farewell, sister dearest." He twitched his finger, and the knife sank into her flesh._

_Her green eyes stared up at the stars with lifeless eyes, surrounded by flames._

"NO!"

Jace shot up, his blond curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his chest heaved as he panted quick breaths.

_Just a dream, _he reassured himself. _It was just a dream._

"What the hell's got you screaming like a banshee, Blondielocks?"

Jace turned and almost passed out from relief at the sight of his nurse standing next to his bed, her expression worried and guarded.

She was so beautiful, Jace thought faintly. Her pale skin was glowing, her red hair was fire, and she looked like she was floating.

_My angel_, he thought proudly. Then nausea hit him in the stomach like bricks, and he immediately bent over and hurled on his lap.

CPOV

Jace had been screaming in his sleep again. The same "No" and "Not her" like the night he'd came to the hospital.

And then he barfed on his lap.

None of these things were Jace's normal, cocky behavior. Clary bit her bottom lip and quickly pulled his covers off of him, and gently tugged him up.

He leaned heavily against her as she stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over her own feet in her haste to reach a toilet for the now shaking Jace.

He fell to his knees, bending over the stainless toilet, heaving his stomach out.

Clary shook her head, stroking back his sweaty hair as he shuddered up vomit. She murmured sweet nothings in his ear, watching him empty his stomach.

The shuddering violently stopped, and she quickly ran warm water over a washcloth, gently wiping the sweat out of the man's face.

He opened his eyes, and stared at her. "Clary..." He choked out her name in disbelief.

Then, without warning, he reached over and pulled her roughly to him, hugging her close to his chest. It took Clary a fraction of a second to relax and sink into his chest; dwell in the fact of how buff, and warm he was, despite his callous hands rubbing her back.

She could've sworn he sniffed her hair, as if reassuring himself that she was really there.

Clary pulled an inch away from him, and was surprised and a little scared when she saw that his gold eyes were a darker color; Black. His eyes were hungry as he looked at her, in only away Sebastian would.

"Jace, what-"

"OHMYFUCKIN'GODYOU'RETHROWIN'YOURSELFATSLUTS!IHATEYOU!WE'RESOFUCKINOVER!"

Clary ripped herself out of Jace's embrace as if his touch had burned her, and twisted so she could see a very pissed figure in the doorway. Kaelie.

Her usually pretty face was contorted with rage as she pointed a trembling finger at Clary.

"And _you,_" she spat. Clary instinctively flinched. "You _bitch_. You _whore_. I can't believe I actually believed you when you said nothing was going on between you two!"

"KAELIE." Jace's voice was cold and hard. Clary cowered against the wall, curling herself into a protecive ball. The same ball she tucked herself in when Sebastian brought down broken beer bottles on her.

"Shut the fuck up. Clary was telling the truth. Nothing's going on between us.I needed help, and Clary was there to give it."

"Oh yeah? Well, what about Kristy? You needed a back massage, and she was there to happily give it?"

Jace was starting to look defensive. "Hey, now-"

"Don't you 'Hey, now' me, Jace Wayland-" Kaelie'svoice was drowned out, and Clary's brain shut down.

*Flashback*

_"Don't you fuckin' tell me what to do, Wayland." Clarissa tensed at her father's cold voice. She'd never heard him speak that way before. The words he'd always spoken to her were filled with love and warmth. _

_The man her father was talking to was aggravated. "Morgenstern, It isn't right to do that to Jocelyn's kids."_

_Daddy's voice was a growl. "Don't give me that bullshit. They're my children, too."_

_Wayland gave a groan. "Val, you're kids are too strong. Raziel won't accept-"_

_Clarissa frowned. What were they talking about? Daddys weren't supposed to keep secrets._

_She was crouched, her back to the door to her father's office, which was cracked. _

_"Wayland. Quiet. Clarissa and Jonathon are asleep."_

_"Oh?" Wayland's voice was cruel. "So your monster can sleep now? All that demon blood, I'm surprised he isn't killing people in his sleep-"_

_"Wayland. You will not speak unless spoken to." _

_Clarissa felt sick, and tired. She didn't like the sound of Daddy angry. Crawling down the hall, the five-year-old came to a halt in the bathroom. _

_Sitting in the middle of the table, was a cage. In the cage, a beautiful boy with golden curls, the same color as an angels', was shackled to the bars._

_His head was hung heavily, and Clarissa could tell he was being starved, by the looks of his pronounced bones. _

_But that was old. All Daddys starved their kids occasionally, right?_

_"Hey," she breathed, poking her fingers through the bars, wanting to touch that fine, golden hair that looked like spun silk._

_The wingless-angel's head snapped up before she could even stroke a single strand, and he hissed at her, snapping his teeth at her fingers._

_Arms wrapped around Clarissa as she screamed and cried, wanting to help the angel. A hand smacked across her face, stinging her. _

_She quieted, but the slap did nothing to quiet her desire to protect the angel boy, who she knew would be punished._

_She was thrown to the ground, and she saw her father pull out a knife, the glowing silver bouncing off moonlight. _

_The last thing she saw were two glowing golden eyes, looking helplessly at her._

_*End of Flashback*_

Clary blinked, and looked around her. Why the hell was she in the bathroom? And why did Kaelie look ready to rip Jace's dick off?

Kaelie took a deep breath, looking at Jace with betrayal and a little bit of... relief?

"I'm sorry, Jace." Her voice was empty. "But I can't do this anymore."

Jace looked up, panicking. "Whaat?"

Kaelie frowned at him slightly. "Until that slut is taken care of-" She jerked a thumb at Clary, who sat, her back pressed against the wall, cowered in fear-"We're over."

She turned on the heel of her Jimmy Choo's, and was out the door.

JaceHasTheBiggestDickEVER!

Clary glanced down at Jace, who was avoiding eye contact with her.

She'd gotten him back in bed, but he'd refused to even glance at her. His eyes stared straight ahead, his lips tight and posture stiff. He hadn't uttered one snide remark on the way there, and she was starting to worry.

"Jace..." He stared straight ahead. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't want to come between you and your girlfriend."

Nothing.

"It won't happen again."

Those words, as soon as they fell from her mouth, she regretted them. They were a blow to a heart, and from the look on Jace's face, they'd hurt him, too.

Not wanting to look at his beautiful face, filled with so much hurt, Clary turned her back on the angel boy, and hurried out the room.

Clary felt a prickle on the back of her neck as she walked down the black streets of the night, frowning a little.

Her footsteps were loud in the eerie silence, the soft slapping of her KED's on the wet sidewalk.

She walked home alone all the time, and she'd never felt this feeling. This feeling of exposure and nervousness.

The feeling of being watched.

Clary swallowed, knowing damn well enough not to look behind her. She also knew that if she ran, she was shit outta luck.

So she continued to walk, quickly as possible.

Sweat broke out on her forehead, under her bangs, and she held her breath until her apartment building came into sight. She breathed a sigh of relief, and broke out into a run.

A voice though, made her stop.

"Who the hell are you runnin' from, bitch?"

Sebastian.

**Dammit, I'm suckin' dick with chapters! This wasn't a fabulous chaptr, but next chapter WILL be better. **

**Also, if you're under sixteen, Id prefer if you didn't read next chap. **

**Unless you wanna be corrupted...**

**Jace: You're ALREADY corrupted.**

**Me: Yo****u're call, moron.**

** Clary: I don't wanna get raped!**

**Me: i don't wanna write about your p****!**

**Magnus: Awkward...**

**Review! And Clary might be saved.**


	8. Chapter Seven

**You guys are killin' me here. Safe her! Don't safe her!/ *sigh*/Oh, well.**

**BTW, the jaceisabadass and other random facts are linebreakers...sorry if that was confusing.**

NPOV

To a passing person, the lovely redhead would be talking words of fear to the beautiful, yet high boy. Nothing to worry about. Just a lover's quarrel.

What about when the man pulls out a gun, and grabs her fiery red hair, straight as a pencil instead of wildly curly like it used to, and drags her into the shadows?

Do you fight with your lover like that?

CPOV

Fear.

Anger.

Sadness.

Regret.

Jace.

_Help me._

**10 Minutes Earlier...**

"Magnus! I swear to the fuckin' God almighty, if you don't fuckin' let me out of this bed..!"

Jace was struggling against the annoying as hell resistance charm Magnus had put on him, permitting him to remain in the bed.

Magnus was laughing at his friend's face, red and furious. After walking into his crush's heavy duty makeout session, Magnus had been itching for a chance to unleash his rage on someone.

"Dammit, Magnus! I have to piss!"

Magnus doubled over, still cackling.

An average, stocky built man with dancing blue eyes and a mop of messy brown hair rolled his eyes at the warlock. "Dude, let Jace go before he pisses himself."

Magnus shrugged. "Since when did you stick up for him?"

Jace, his legs clasped tightly together, rolled his eyes. "Since he became a whipped kissass, because of a certain nurse."

Luke pursed his lips thoughtfully, cocking an eyebrow at the blond. "No, I can't for the life of me imagine why Kaelie would want to end things with you."

Magnus snorted, snapping his fingers together, which increased the pressure on Jace's stomach.

"Holymotherfuckin'cockblockin'SHIT!" Jace flailed his arms around, his pupils dilated.

Luke was on the floor in only a matter of seconds, choking on his laughter.

Magnus only smirked, pulling out his rainbow colored iPhone, and before Jace could yell, snapped pictures of the writhering boy.

"Simon will kill me if I let you out of here without some pictures..." Magnus winked a glittery eye at him.

"I'll kill you if you don't let me out of here without pissing myself..." Jace's voice was a growl.

Luke smiled at him. "Touchy touchy," he said in a sing song voice. "Is somone in a bad mood?"

Jace bared his teeth in a snarl. "You mangy son of a-" He was cut off by the shrill music of his ringtone.

_"I just wanna fuck every girl in the world..."_

...Sending Luke back to the floor.

"Magnus," Jace managed to say through gritted teeth, ignoring Luke's obnoxious barks of laughter. "Give me my damn phone, would you?"

Magnus stuck his hand into one of the many pockets of Jace's black duster, his expression amused.

Jace gave an annoyed sigh. Honestly, he was used to him messing with his ringtones. At least it wasn't Katy Perry's 'You're so gay'.

He'd been having sex with some vampire in a closet, and Magnus had called him, and it'd blared out, leaving Jace with a raging hard on and scraps of denim.

Pulling out Jace's plain black iPhone, Magnus's other hand went into another pocket, nostrils flaring.

Jace caught the phone deftly, flipping it open without bothering to look at caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Dammit," he muttered, flinging the phone at Luke. "Missed call," he grumbled in answer to Luke's questioning look.

"What the mother fu-" Magnus pulled his hand out of Jace's breast pocket, a used bottle of lube dangling from his slender fingers.

He glanced at Jace with a cocked eyebrow. "Kaelie not good enough?"

"Hey, Jace." Luke's calm voice cut him off before he could come up with a snappy retort. "You remember Madame Dorothea?"

Magnus snorted, pulling a snickers bar out of Jace's jacket. "Yeah." Jace shot Magnus a dirty look. "Crazy old lady at the carnival."

Luke nodded and raised the phone to his ear.

"Magnus. Let. Me out. Of this. Fuckin'. Bed. NOW!"

Muttering about drama queens under his breath, Magnus snapped his fingers, and Jace was flying to the bathroom before Magnus had finished snapping.

**Meanwhile...**

Pain. So much pain.

The only noises she hears are of his pants and thrusts.

And his disgusted howl when he backhanded her, causing her to fall against the brickwall.

"You aren't a fuckin' virgin!" He screamed, kicking her and fingering her.

"You whore."

Then he collapsed on top of her, sliding roughly in to her.

**JPOV**

"Jace."

Jace walked back into his room, only to be met with Luke's worried blue eyes, and Magnus's disinterested catlike ones.

"What happened?"

He glanced at them, back and forth.

Not saying anything, Luke silently handed Jace his phone, to listen to his voicemail.

Madame Dorothea's gravelly voice was solemn, as if someone had just told her that her puppy had died.

_"You're too late."_

**Crazy bitch say what?**

**Okay, don't be mad that she wasn't saved. More drama and angst. Also, it turns out she isn't a virgin...**

**WTF, right?**

_REVIEW_


	9. Chapter Eight

**Ok. Thanks for everyone who reviewed. And, because I totally forgot to mention this:**

**Isabelle is human. But she knows how to kick ass. **

**Maia is human...for now. **

**Luke is engaged...Poor Maia.**

**And Magnus is hell bent on making Alec's life miserable.**

JPOV

Jace frowned at Luke. "Dude," he compained. "The cryptic bitch's giving me a frickin' headache. You know who she's talking about?"

Luke shrugged, his eyebrows crinkled. "No. Maybe she's looking too far ahead, ya know?"

Magnus pulled a tube of Kaelie's lip stick out of one of Jace's pockets, along with a few condom wrappers.

"MAGNUS!" Jace exploded. "Could you please drop the damn jacket and pay attention!"

The warlock scowled, but hung the coat back on the coat hanger. "Dorothea has a habit of being either too early, or too late," he muttered. "I'd suggest you forget about it Jace. She's nothing but a hedgewitch. A fake. She nows nothing."

CPOV

Clary walked at a painfully slow pace up her apartment steps. Her building had no elevator, one of the reasons why she thought it had character. Now she mentally cursed it for the ache between her legs.

Another reason was the view of the beautiful river and bridge, giving her the perfect view of sunset and sunrise.

Now all she could focus on was to lift her feet correctly.

The pain was..unbearable. He hadn't taken her virginity, according to him she was a cheap, common slut.

She frowned to herself. She never remembered having her virginity being taken away.

Clary swallowed loudly, swinging her door open. Unlocked. She'd stopped bothering to lock her doors, because Sebastian would always get in anyway.

Clary sighed heavily, glancing in the hall mirror. Hideous. Sebastian had slapped the makeup off her, leaving her bare and bruised.

Hideous.

Jace would think she was ugly, with or without the makeup.

Hideous.

Kaelie was so beautiful. She'd probably ruined the perfect relationship.

Hideous.

Wait, what? Clary shook her head, scolding herself. Why the hell was she worrying about what Jace thought? He was arrogant, rude, and obviously didn't of girls more than just a quick fuck.

Clary sighed to herself, sliding down her hall wall and drawing her knees up to her chest. She had work in twenty minutes. But she didn't really feel like going.

She felt like curling up on her couch and eating ice cream and brownies. And anything else that'd give her _a heart attack._

Clary rubbed her face absentmindedly. Maybe she'd call in sick. Or just tell them she was going out of town for awhile. Or forever, it depended on whether or not Sebastian would ever die of an overdose of heroin.

She was saved from her thoughts, however, by the persistent sound of her phone buzzing. Maia.

Clary's hand hovered hesitantly over the 'Ignore' button, but Maia might decide to come over. Clary groaned in exasperation, before pounding 'Speaker Phone'.

_"Hey, girlfriend," _Maia's voice crackled with electricity. "_Guess what?"_

"What?"

_"Well, you want the good news, or bad?"_

"Good."

_"You don't have to go to the hospital this morning."_

Clary smiled weakly. "Great. What's the bad news?"

"..."

...

"Oh, HELL no."

_"Please, Clary. PLEASE?"_

Clary groaned. "Fine. But I'd better get a fuckin' raise for this."

She hung up on Maia's squealing, and massaged her forehead. Jace was going to be released. But he still had some problems with his hips and legs, so she was going to have to _move in _with him until he got better.

But what if he wanted what she couldn't give him?

Clary gulped, burying her face inher hands. Shit, she was screwed.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Back At Isabelle and Maia's Apartment

Maia hung up after she realized Clary had cut her off in the middle of her celebrating. Isabelle was watching her carefully. "What'd she say?"

Maia rolled her eyes. "A typical Clary Answer: Hell no."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, flopping down on her stomach. "I wonder what her problem is," she said thoughtfully. "She's seemed...distant, lately."

Maia nodded. "She needs to live a little."

Isabelle snorted and waggled her eyebrows at her friend. "You think Jace will teach her how to have some fun?"

Maia shook her head. "If he hurts her in any way, I swear to _God_ he's going to be put back in the hospital."

Isabelle shook her head, grinning. "Whatever, Maia."

Maia grinned cheekily at her. "You know I would. Hey," she frowned. "Did you get the mail?"

Isabelle shook her head. "You're expecting mail, you're getting it."

Maia exhaled heavily, standing up. "You're lucky you're the one paying the rent," she muttered.

Going out at night, it didn't matter if it was right outside her apartment, freaked Maia out. Several different scenarios would run through her head every time she'd go out.

LOCAL GIRL KIDNAPPED: LAST SPOTTED BY HER MAILBOX or GIRL RAPED AND MURDERED...RAPIST NOT FOUND.

_Seriously,_ Maia thought, shuddering. _Izzy makes me watch way too much CSI._

The night air was cool and crisp, a slap in the face for Maia, who's apartment was heated and toasty.

She shuddered to herself, pulling up the mailbox's lid.

"Hmm." Maia pulled out a stack of cards flipping through. "Isabelle...Isabelle..Taxes...Electric Bill...Isabelle...Isabelle..." She sighed, dumping the stack back in the mailbox. "I guess there's no mail today."

"Now," a familiar voice taunted behind her. "That wasn't very nice."

Maia gasped, and spun around. _"Elliott?"_

_(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))_

Clary smeared some concealer over her cheekbones and nose, wincing every so often whenever she'd hit exposed flesh.

She was getting dressed to go to Jace's house, which turned out to be some abandoned church.

Clary hummed quietly to herself, only stopping at the sound of her cell buzzing, vibrating from where it lied on the counter.

She frowned and picked up her cell curiously; The number was blocked.

"Hello?" She asked carefully.

"Ah, Clary," the voice on the other end drawled. "Ectastic to hear from me, I'm sure."

Clary rolled her eyes, smiling. "You got my number. Tsk. _Somebody_ doesn't know how to play hard to get."

She could practically see him rolling his eyes. "I don't need to. Girls throw themselves at me either way. I mean, aren't _you_ moving in? You never struck me as the type to put out right after the first date."

Clary rolled her eyes again. "A sponge bath doesn't count as a date, Jace."

"So you _do_ want to go out with me?"

"I never-"

"Why, Clarissa...If you _insist,_ I'll take you out Friday night. Shouldn't be much of a problem, you living with me, doing my laundry, cooking for me-"

Clary hung up on him.

Staring at her phone in bafflement, her mouth fell open. "What the hell just happened?"

No, he couldn't have just asked her out...

Right?

(*****************************)

Jace smirked to himself, flipping his phone shut. He positively _adored _making Clary flustered.

Magnus lookied up from the bottle of lube he'd pulled out of Jace's breast pocket. "Shadowhunter," he murmured, flipping the lube over. "Have you ever actually used-"

"No."

"Alright then." Magnus slipping the bottle into his rainbow streaked peacoat, looking pleased with himself.

"Clary's moving in with us," Jace informed Luke, who rolled his eyes. "I _know_, Jace," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I was_ there_."

Jace smiled sweetly at him, making Luke recoil. Whenever Jace smiled like that, it was smart to run like hell and hide. "Go tell Clary's friend, Maia. And see if she wants to move in with us, too."

"No."

"She'll be lonely."

"NO."

"Why not?"

"You know why, you dickhead."

Magnus looked up from the chocolate bar he was eating, taken from Jace's coat. "Jocelyn would flip her shit if she found out that Luke had a crush on someone else, and that crush was living in his house."

Luke scowled at him. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious."

Jace snorted. "I don't get it," he said, leaning over and snatching his jacket out of Magnus's wondering hands, and sticking it behind his bed. "Why can't you just pick your own mate?"

Luke frowned and shrugged. "I don't know. It's always been like that." He shrugged.

Magnus gave a shudder. "That's nasty, man," he told Luke. "Jocelyn's old enough to be your mother."

Jace nodded. "She looks familiar, though." He frowned. "Does she have kids?"

Luke stared at him in horror.

Magnus busted out laughing. "Dude," he snickered. "Luke's not _that _easy."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Magnus."

Jace smirked. "You think Simon would be glad to hear that Isabelle and her friends'll be moving in with us."

Magnus grinned evilly. "Poor guy. He'll be popping boners 24/7."

Jace nodded, and frowned. "Where's Alec?"

Magnus noticeably stiffened, and looked away.

Luke shook his head at Jace.

Jace ignored the warning, and rolled his eyes. "_Angel_," he growled, throwing his pillow at Magnus. "What _is_ it with you two?"

Magnus scowled at him. "What would you do if you walked in on your future boyfriend shoving his tongue down some wannabe slut's throat?"

Jace stared at him. "Uh," he scratched his wrist. "I don't know if you know this, but I don't _have a boyfriend."_

Luke raised an eyebrow, and Magnus shook his head. "You poor thing," he said sympathetically.

The door to Jace's room swung open, and Alec strode in, lipstick stains covering his cheek.

"Whussup?"

Magnus looked away pointedly.

Jace gave a cough. "Homo." He cleared his throat innocently.

(****************************************************)

It was dark.

That was the first thought of Maia's when she regained conciousness. At first she was confused. How'd she get here-

She racked her memories, and froze.

Elliott.

What'd this mean? She'd always thought Elliott was crazy, she and the girls had joked about it all the time.

But surely he wouldn't kidnap her, right?

She opened her mouth to scream, only to realize Elliott had shoved a washcloth down her throat.

_Phsyco._

Maia closed her eyes, not that it made much of a difference.

_This is a dream, _she pleaded to herself silently. _You are asleep. None of this is real._

"Ah, Maia."

_Shit._

"Open your eyes, sweetheart. Let me take a good look at those pretty little eyes."

Maia opened her eyes reluctantly, Elliott standing in front of her, grinning maniacally.

_Jesus, _she thought wryly. _He could totally play off the Freddy Krueger look._

Elliott sneered at her. "Maia, Maia." He walked in a circle, around her. It was then that she realized she was hanging from the ceiling, her wrists bound tightly.

Elliott surveyed her. "What to do with you?" he murmured.

"Want me to help?"

Maia had heard the saying,_ And my heart stopped beating. _

Her blood seemed to run cold, and she knew that the blood had probably left her face.

Jordan.

_Flashback_

_"Jordan, I'm sorry!" Maia was pressed up against the side of the bed. "Please." _

_Her lips was cracked and bleeding, the side of her face bruised. _

_He was advancing on her, his dark eyes filled with hatred. _

_"You little _bitch_!" He yelled, swinging the empty beer bottle at her head. It shattered, the blood mixing with glass and tears. _

_"I _told_ you not to eat that slice of pizza!" He brpught his foot down on her, smashing her kneecap. "You fat ass!"_

_"Jordan!" _

_His punches were relentless, his face curled in disgust. "You hideous, worthless piece of shit," he sneered. "You're nobody."_

_End Of Flashback_

Maia felt nausea curl in her stomach, threatening to make its way up her throat.

He had flicked a switch, and she could see that he hadn't changed at all. Dark jeans hanging loosely around his narrow hips, dark shit that drew tight over his muscled chest, his dark curls tucking around his collar.

He was gorgeous. He was lickable.

Maia hated him.

He grinned widely at her. "Hey, Maia," he said in a sweet voice he'd used when they'd first started dating. The one that'd made her fall in love with him.

Now it made her want to gag.

Since her mouth had a cloth in it, she simply scowled at him.

Jordan gave a chuckle. "Ooh," he murmured. "We've got a fiesty one here, El."

Elliott cocked his head. "You think we should-"

Jordan nodded. "She'll be mine."

Maia felt her heart began to thump, and fear began crawling up her toes and through her stomach.

Elliott licked his lips. "Listen to that heartbeat," he whispered. In a flash, he was behing her, running his nose up and down her neck. "That _pulse_."

Maia gulped. What was going one?

Jordan moved so that he was in front of her, cupping her cheek fondly. "Shh, sweetie," he cooed. "It's gonna be fine."

Elliott walked around Maia so that he stood next to him. "Just fine."

Maia watched in horror, as his canines sharpened drastically, and slowly crept over his bottom lip.

She screamed against the rag in her mouth.

**(*******************************)**

**This wasn't exactly what I meant to write...**

**If you didn't like it, bummer. I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been so TIRED lately. **

**Anyways, review and give me some votes:**

**Should Maia die or become a werewolf?**

**And there WILL be more Jonathon, Kaelie, and Sebastian.**


	10. Chapter Nine

**So, I'm sorry it took this long-again-to update. *sighs dramatically* But this chapter was SO hard to write.**

**Me: Yes, it's me. Gorgeous and witty, as usual. Hee. **

**Jace: Yeah, you wish. **

**Me: Excuse_ moi?_**

**Magnus: *rolls eyes* I'm the only gorgeous and witty one in here, folks.**

**Jace: Yeah, that's why Alec decided to swing both ways.**

**Me: *smacks Jace* He is not homo. Just...lonely.**

**Magnus: _Lonely? _Psh, I wouldn't let him leave the apartment for weeks, if he'd give me a chance.**

**Me: Want to take me instead?**

**Magnus: *holds gun to his head and pulls the trigger***

**Me:...**

**Jace: I guess that's a no, then. **

**WARNING: Ahem, character death in this, like almost all of you voted :/**

CPOV

Christ, Clary thought sardonically, staring up at the giant Gothic church. She'd known most churches were big, but this one was just _huge_.

It was rundown, sort of. Shutters hung loosely off the windows, dark paint was slowly chipping off. It reminded Clary of the move _The Haunted Mansion_. Minus the talking head, of course.

She took a deep breath, tucking a copper colored curl behind her ear.

Clary didn't get why she was so nervous, she'd moved in with patients before, but they were mostly old, and just needed her for basic things, cooking, helping them use the bathroom.

She picked up her heavy bag, wincing as she the weight of the bag pulled a little at her sore shoulder.

_I should ring the doorbell. _

Clary sighed, stabbing quickly at the doorbell, before hiding her hand behind her back.

She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling her stomach flip-flop. _Jesus, _she thought angrily. Wh_en'd I become such a wimp?_

The door swung open, and Alec stood there, looking awkward. "Hey, Clary," he said uncomfortably.

She exhaled heavily, slightly disappointed it wasn't Jace who'd answered.

_Wait, what? Disappointed? Where'd that come from?_

"Um, come in, I guess," Alec said quietly, ducking his head so that a lock of raven dark hair covered his eyes.

_Way to make a girl feel welcome, huh?_

Clary flashed him a quick smile, trying not to wince at the sharp pain in her cheekbones and bottom lip.

"Where's Jace?"

Alec frowned and shrugged. "I think he was in the library..."

Clary raised an eyebrow. "He _reads_?"

Alec frowned at her. "Of course he does." He turned his back, and began walking away.

O-kay.

Clary scowled, but carefully covered it up with a calm expression. Nobody could notice her mood swings. Nobody.

Straightening her collar, Clary marched in the church with false confidence.

(****************************************)

Clary gaped. Gawd, it looked awesome inside, compared to the shitty view _outside_.

The walls were covered with fading angel print wallpaper, gold, black and red covered the walls.

She rubbed at her eyes wearily. God, she was tired.

_I wonder where Alec is?_

Maybe he could tell her where her room was.

Clary continued to walk aimlessly down the Institute's halls, only stopping at a huge picture frame.

"What the hell...?"

Clary squinted, and drew back, blinking. It was a picture of several wolves, ripping apart their victims.

_Christ. _

"That's what Romanians believed the wolf men did to intruders," a soft boy's voice said behind her.

Clary jumped and whirled around, coming face-to-face with a short boy about nine, with shaggy brown hair and big glasses.

"How'd you know that?" she asked blankly.

He smiled toothily at her, and she noticed that he was missing his two front teeth. "My big brother used to tell me stories about them," he said cheerfully.

Clary regarded him curiously. "Is Jace your brother?"

The boy nodded his head. "He's my adopted brother," he said proudly. "He's really cool."

Clary smiled faintly at him. "Do you know what hurt your brother?"

The boy shook his head quickly. "I can't tell you," he said apologetically. "You're a mun-a girl," he covered quickly. "But I could tell you where you;ll be staying."

Clary sighed in relief. "Thanks, kid."

The boy beamed at her. "It's Max."

"Clary."

He nodded, and took her hand.

Clary shivered, but didn't pull her hand away. Max's hand felt distant, cold.

She walked slowly with the younger boy, breathing in deeply. The walls were too cose together, and she was worried she might have an anxiety attack.

_Ohshitohshitohshit, _she chanted to herself. Nausea curled in her stomach. _Don'thurldon'thurldon'thurl._

Max stopped, and turned to glance over at her, worriedly. "Don't worry," he said in a gentle voice. "Jace isn't like your boyfriend."

And with that, he turned back around, leaving Clary staring at him with her mouth open.

(******************)

JPOV

So hot...so _good. _Ugh, and so _creamy..._

He sighed happily, taking a huge bite of his toaster stroodle.

Magnus, from his perch on the counter, regarded him with scorn. "I've never met anyone," Magnus told him. "Like you. You're probably the only person I know who's probably orgasamed while eating those little shits."

Jace glared at him. "It's not my fault no one here can cook," he said defensively. "You try going a week with nothing but Chinese and Taki's."

Magnus smirked knowingly at him. "I wonder if Clary can cook?"

Jace blinked and glowered. "Even if she did," he muttered. "She'd probably slip some medicine in it."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Pssh. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Every straight guy knows how hot it is to have a girl that can cook."

Jace swallowed, the images of Clary, in that sexy ass nurse uniform of hers, ladling soup out of a large pot, leaning over and bringing her lips ever so slowly over to the-

"Jace!"

Jace blinked and shook his head, fighting down the blush at Magnus's mischevious grin.

"You okay? You look like you've just had...a toaster stroodle."

Jace whipped a kitchen knife at Magnus's head, which he easily ducked from. "Ha ha," he muttered. "But seriously. She's Jonathon's sister."

Magnus shrugged. "Who gives a shit? I never liked the pansy ass, myself."

Jace sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, he's my _parabati, _so there's not much I can do. Besides," he turned around to busy himself with a third stroodle. "She's too..."

Magnus smirked. "Smart? Realistic? Actually making you feel important?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "No. I was going to say _nosy._"

Magnus blew out a heavy breath, pushing himself off of the counter. "Whatever. But mark my words, Jace Wayland," he taunted, flicking the blond in the nose. "You like her. And when you find that out..." he turned around. "Come ask Uncle Maggie what to do from there."

Jace bristled. "Go take care of your own damn relationship," he sneered.

Huffing, Magnus walked out the door with his head held high.

With Magnus gone, and the kitchen painsakingly silent, Jace sat down and rubbed his forehead, troubled by his own thoughts.

How did he know that Jonathon had been telling the truth, and Clary really didn't know about the Shadowhunters?

What made him care so much about Clary's wellbeing?

Jace gave a heavy sigh. God, this called for another toaster stroodle.

(***********************************)

Max, Clary realized, was an honest-to-God comic book geek.

He could possibly go hours, or, God forbid, all_ day _talking about Naruto. Who r_eads_ that shit, anyway?

But obviously, he was ignored by his older siblings, because he barely had time to pause for a moment of breath.

When they reached her room, he helped her unpack, before telling her Jace usually ordered Chinese in about fifteen minutes.

Clary blinked. That was all that she and her girls ever ate. No _way_ was she going to eat any more of that cheap crap. She was no cook, but she could make a decent lasanga.

"Tell him it's fine," Clary assured Max. "I can make dinner."

Max's face suddenly morphed from a vibrant, carefree, nine-year-old, to a wistful, sad kid who's experienced much more than he should have.

Clary bent over to pick up a pair of shoes that had fallen out of her bag, only to look up, and notice that Max was no longer there.

"Huh." She stared at the spot he'd been standing just seconds before. "Weird kid."

Shrugging, Clary started walking out of the guest room, colliding with a rock hard, slender body. "Shit," she growled, rubbing her head. "Watch where you're-" she glanced up, and blanched in surprise when she noticed she'd ran into Isabelle's patient.

"Sorry," she said. He raised an eyebrow, but made no comment about her change of heart.

He reached down a hand, which she grasped firmly. He tugged her up, lightly, but Clary could've sworn that if he'd let her hand go, she'd have gone flying across the hallway.

"Who're you?" he asked as they began walking down the halls, and Clary noticed the many doors that decorated the walls.

"What _is _this place?" Clary asked under her breath. The pale boy seemed to hear her question. Smirking to himself, he swung an arm over her shoulder, and Clary shivered at the inhuman cold. _And Christ_...she slowly inched her hand forward, clasping his wrist gently.

He glanced down at her in confusion. "What's wrong?"

No pulse.

But, of course, that was impossible, of course.

He had to have a pulse.

How else could he be alive?

Clary pressed her back firmly into his chest, struggling to feel for his heartbeat.

He pulled himself away, looking uncomfortable. "Jeez," he said, holding his hands out, palms forward. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but..."

Clary mentally slapped herself. Of course! What was she _thinking? _He probably thought she liked him or something, practically dry-humping him like a freakin' whore!

He gave a laugh. "C'mon. I overheard you saying you can cook."

They started walking again, Clary pondering about his lack of a pulse. Jesus. Was that even _possible?_

Clary chewed on her bottom lip, glancing from side to side from beneath her eyelashes. Jeez, it was _so_ awkward.

"So..um.." She struggled for something to say. Dammit, why couldn't he take a hint and start up a conversation?

He glanced down at her, eyebrow cocked. "Yes?"

Clary threw up the first thing that came to mind: "How do you know Jonathon?"

He looked away and shrugged. "Um...it wasn't exactly a _friendly _meeting."

She nodded, understanding. Jonathon had never been one to get along with people. In fact, he'd gotten into trouble with the School Board for violence towards his peers. "So...who one?"

He glanced at her. "I did. Duh."

Bastard.

They rounded the corner, and Clary tugged at a strand of coppery hair. "Why does Max live with you guys?"

He stopped, abruptly, and spun around to glare at Clary. "Is that some sort of sick joke?" He demanded in a harsh growl.

Instinctively, Clary flinched from him. "N-no," she stammered. "What do you mean?"

He avoided her gaze, his jaw working. "Never mind. Just don't bring your _brother,_" he sneered. "or max, into the conversation. Got it?"

Wordlessly, Clary nodded.

He relaxed, slightly. "Good." He grabbed her shoulder, hard enough to hurt, but not bruise, and he dragged her the rest of the way to the kitchen.

(****************************************)

JPOV

When Simon and Clary walked into the kitchen, Jace could tell something had happened. Hell, you could cut the tension with a seraph blade.

Clary looked confused and worried. Jace felt his chest hurt at the thought of anything making her eyebrows dent like that. maybe she'd let him smooth away the wrinkles betweent her brows, maybe even letting him-

"Suck it up, lover boy," Simon muttered, too low for Clary, who'd wondered over to the cabinets, to hear.

Jace shot him a smirk. "_I _won't be the one sucking it up," he murmured.

Simon's face curled in disgust. "Thanks for the mental picture," he hissed.

Jace coughed slightly. "Don't worry 'bout it. I daydream about your-"

"Do you want lasanga?" Clary's sweet voice interrupted the boys' conversation, much to Simon's obvious relief.

The two looked at her. Jace raised an eyebrow, doubtfully. "I don't know," he said, uneasily. "Can you cook?"

Clary scoffed, and rolled her eyes. "Of course I can," she said.

Jace held his hands out. "Just checking," he told her. "Magnus tried to cook pasta last week, and almost set the kitchen on fire."

She shook her head. "Where _is _Magnus, anyway?"

To Jace's surprise, he felt his stomach clench. Why'd she want to see Magnus? Did she _like _him? What-

"Jace?"

He blinked, realizing Clary was waving a hand in front of his face. "Where'd you go?"

Jace shook his head, grinning a little. "Nothing." He grabbed her hand, pulling it to her side.

To his shock, he saw a glimpse of raw panic and fear flare up in her emerald eyes. "Clary?"

Saying nothing, Clary pulled away from him, yanking open the refrigerator, a little too roughly.

Jace peered at her, curiously. What was wrong with her?

**Horrible place to end, I know, and I'm sorry. Next chapter'll probably be better. I still haven't decided to what I'm gonna do with Maia...**

**Also, I need some help.**

**Jace WILL find out about Clary's abuse and...sex assualt, but I don't know _how _he'll find out. **

**PM or review your vote :) **

**And as always, review.**


	11. Chapter Ten

***peers from behind fingers* Shit, don't kill me. I know, I've been sucking ass on updating lately...*pouts* Blame it on my newest obsession, he showers with the windows open.**

***coughs* Not to sound stalkerish, or anything. *laughs nervously***

**I haven't really thought about Clary getting pregnant..good twist though...**

**Warning: This chapter will have...OOC, is the only way I can say it.**

**Also, this will mainly revolve around dreams, for most of the beginning. **

JPOV

Holy _shit._

Clary looked at him with an anxious expression. "How is it?" she asked curiously.

Simon looked up. "He looks like..." he scratched his ear thoughtfully. "Like that one time I walked in on him and Kaelie going at it like bunnies."

Clary's face paled. "Oh."

Jace made a humming noise, so caught up in a cheesy bliss, he decided to let that one slide.

Simon, he noticed, was acting more pissy than usual, with his mopey self.

Blinking himself out of his haze, Jace noticed that Simon's usually dark brown eyes were blacker than usual, and the skin around his temples had thinned out.

He was thirsty.

Jace squinted his eyes, lasanga forgotten. Most of the time, he would notice his friend's daily diet. But now that he thought about it, Simon hadn't had anything to drink since they'd left the hospital.

Crap.

Simon was holding his breath, his irises leaking into the whites of his eyes. Jace cringed. His friend could get a little...weird when he was thirsty.

Clary noticed that Simon hadn't touched his food. "Are you hungry?"

Simon nodded his head.

Jace snickered. They looked at him.

"He wants to eat you up," he told her.

Simon kicked him sharply from under the table, but Clary looked slightly nauseas, as if Jace had punched her in the stomach.

_The hell?_

Jace shoveled another helping into his mouth, watching with uncontained glee as Clary questioned Simon.

"Are you going to eat?"

"I doubt it."

"Why not?"

"Jace will beat me up." He looked up at Clary with bambi eyes, and Jace fought down a surge of an unfamiliar emotion that had flared in his chest. Would Clary be giving Simon goo-goo eyes if just minutes earlier he'd been thinking about draining her?

And no, if Simon _did _get a bite, Jace wouldn't just beat him up.

He'd kill him.

**(*drum roll* He sounds physco, but really, he's just protecting what he thinks harm will come to. *shrugs*)**

Later...

_Panic welled up in her chest, threatening to choke her. She was running, shadows dancing after her, taunting her with the darkness._

_The hallway was narrow, the floorboards scratchy under her feet as her feet were pierced by loose nails. _

_Doors covered the walls, but every time she would stop to tug at a handle, it was stuck, or simply wouldn't budge._

_And then finally, she saw it. At the end of the long, narrow hallway, stood a door. An open door._

_She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, and looked down to see a great swell over where her usually flat stomach lay. _

_"Claaary."_

_No._

_Sebastian was there, walking slowly, shadows jumping from the walls and onto his face, darkening his expression._

_"Run, Clary." _

_One of the many doors opened, and Simon stepped out. Clary was so relieved to see him, she almost threw herself at him and hugged him._

_But he was...different looking._

_Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, his clothes were tattered and ripped. _

_Instinctively, Clary stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself and her baby, shielding her from the creature in front of her._

_Another door opened, and Jace stepped out. His expression was stoic, and tattoos decorated his body like a canvas, and Clary's fingers itched to trace the inky shapes that carved their way beneath his shirt._

_His golden eyes were flat, dead looking. Instantly, Clary was reminded of the little boy in the cage in her daydream. The same expressionless look in his eyes as him, the same scar on his left eyebrow._

_She jerked away from him, and crashed into a hard body. "Whaa-" She spun around, and stifled a scream. _

_Maia, her best friend, stood there. _

_Her face was bloody and scarred, and she was limping heavily her lip ripped and her eyes bloodshot._

_She grinned maniacally at Clary, and Clary saw her hands raise up, and sharpen into dirt covered talons. _

_Without warning, Maia slashed at Clary's belly, and she fell to the floor with a cry._

_Blood seeped from her, and Clary saw a face pressed against the skin of her stomach, as if trying to get out._

_The baby._

_Except it wasn't a baby. It was a monster, ripping through the skin of her stomach, and landing in a puddle of blood. _

_It had a fuzz of dark har on its head, long nails were scraping absentlyat the floor. It glanced up at Clary, and she screamed again. _

_His eyes were blood-red._

_"Shhh. Now, now, Clarissa, that's no way to treat my nephew."_

_Clary froze, looking from the big hands that had picked up her son, and into the face of her brother._

_He kicked her in the face, hard._

_And she woke up, screaming._

JPOV

He woke up from his dream, or nightmare, though he'd never admit it, from the sound of his stomach growling.

Running a slender hand through his dishevelled curls, Jace shuddered from the memory of it.

_He was maybe about eight or nine-years-old, and his lumberjack of a father was dragging him mercilessly throught the slippery puddles, not stopping, even when he would trip._

_Jace would never stop either, rubbing the gravel and blood onto his trousers, knowing that the servants would _tsk_ at him._

_He didn't ask where they were going, because he knew, at times like these, his father would just brush him off and continue whatever it was he was doing._

_Michael gripped his hand tighter as a huge building came into sight. _

_Jace swallowed hard, fighting to keep calm. If he'd shown an ounce of fear, his father would bend him over his knees, and whip him until he was numb._

_Michael took a deep breath, before pushing open the front door. _

_A tall man stood in the hallway, and Jace immediataly hated him. His thick hair was a pale blond color, his eyes black like the demons in the history books Jace had read at the Institute._

_He looked like a mundie, in a crisp business suit, and Jace would've thought he was a mundane, if not for the rune marks curling at the cuffs of his jacket._

_The man looked down at him, disdaintfully. "_Is _this _the boy?" _he asked scornfully. _

_Michael nodded, and Jace could see the disgust showing on his face as he did so, knowing that he was ashamed of him for being his son._

_Jace flushed with sadness, but lifted his chin, catching the man's eyes. He would not show fear. Never._

_The man shrugged, disinterest clearly written on his face. "_Jonathon," _he raised his voice slightly._

_A door opened, and a boy of about ten walked in his eyes black like the man's. He sneered at Jace cruelly, before walking over to stand next to his the man, who was his father, according to their similar profiles._

"Jonathon." _The man touched the boy's shoulder. Jace knew, from experience, that what looked like an affectionate gesture was clearly a warning, by the way his nails dug into the fabric of the boy's shirt. _"The boy. Place him with the others."

_The boy, Jonathon, nodded, and pulled free of his father's grip, and faster than Jace thought possible, even for a Shadowhunter, lashed out, siezing Jace by the throat._

_Jace struggled, before stilling, remembering what Father had taught him: Make the opponent think you've given up, and catch him off guard._

_Apparently, Jonathon's father had taught him that to. For before Jace could think of a way to stun him, especially while he had him by his windpipe, Jonathon brought his opposite hand down and into Jace's ribcage, causing a sickening crack._

_Jace gave a strangled breath, before letting Jonathon drag him to God knows where._

_Jace glared at the thick bars before him, reminding himself over and over that his father wanted this for him, and that he wouldn't let any harm come to him. _

_Jonathon had thrown him into a cage, jeering at him with contempt. Jace curled his bloody fists to his sides. What he wouldn't give to pound that bony nose of his, deep into his skull._

_The door to the basement he was in opened slightly, and Jace stiffened when he noticed that the figure was short and slender. Was it Jonathon?_

_The dark figure stepped closer to him hesitantly, and raised its head. Jace blinked in surprise. The heck? What _was _that?_

_The figure standing before him had no features of any boy Jace had ever met. For starters, its hair was a flaming reddish-orange, a color that resembled fire. And it hung all the way down to its waist. Weird._

_Dark green eyes stared curiously into his, and its elfin features were immediataly drawn into one of concern. It opened its mouth to speak, but the sound of light footsteps caused it to snap its mouth shut. Spinning around, the petite figure ran out of the room. _

_Jace immediataly felt a pang in his chest, and found himself missing the elf's presense. _

_Maybe it was a demon, or a faerie. It certaintly was pretty enough._

_His musings were cut off by the sound of the door slamming open, and the white-haired man stepped in. _

_Father was not with him._

_The man strode up to Jace's cage, and walked carefully around him, letting his eyes roam up and down him._

_"Your father tells me you have..." He cocked his head slightly. "Wings."_

_Jace swallowed hard, nearly choking. Michael wouldn't have said anything? Would he?_

_The man unlocks his cage, and pulls him out by the throat. "I don't understand what all the fuss is about," he muttered to himself. "You're slower than Blackwell." _

_Jace wanted to struggle; To punch, stab, kill him. But he remembered what Father had said. And he didn't want to disappoint him._

_He was limp in the man's grip, as he dragged him unceremoniously out of the room._

_Jace stumbled up the stairs, the man never stopping. He was like Father, in a way. They both carried themselves with an obnoxious sense of superiorty and arrogance._

_Jace thought of the elfin creature. Maybe this man stored Downworlders, or something! MAybe he wanted to use Jace as his assistant, and they'd lead wars against demons-_

_"Go lie on the table," the man ordered sharply, causing Jace to flinch automatically. _

_They'd reached a deserted chamber, weird looking chains, swords, axes, and even a couple of chainsaws._

_Jace frowned. This reminded him of some of the pictures of torture chambers he'd spotted in some history books in the Institute's library that he'd read. _

_"I will not repeat myself," the white-haired man snapped sharply. "Do as you're told, or i will not numb you."_

Numb _me? Jace shuddered instinctively, creeped out. _

_But glancing at the man's cruel face, he hurried to the sleek, flat metal table that lay in the center of the dark room._

_The man strode up to him with purpose, only stopping to stoop down and grabbing a pair of chained handcuffs._

_Jace swallowed, hard. _

_Chaining Jace's ankles to the bottom corners, and handcuffing his wrists to the top corners, he tightened the pressure on Jace's cuffs, causing him to inhale sharply._

_The man sneered at Jace, grabbing his left wrist sharply, and reaching into his breast pocket, pulled out his wand-like _stele.

_Jace held his breath, staring at the needle-like tip. _

_He'd been marked many times before. But something told him, that this would not be gentle._

_The man dug the _stele _deep into Jace's skin, carving in the rune roughly, as if carving initials into a tree trunk._

_Jace felt a jolt of pain. Then...nothing._

_Glancing down at his wrist, he noticed the deep ink swirled into the rune that meant "To Feel Nothing"._

_Numbness._

_He felt as if he'd floated from his body, watching the shell of himself, as if from inside another body._

_The man grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands, and with a startling loud noise, ripped open Jace's white tee. _

_Jace was too dazed and light-headed to care that his winged back was exposed for this strange man to see. _

_Normally, he'd shy away or attack anyone who laid a finger on his bare back. But he was numb. _

_The man carefully flipped Jace over onto his stomach, pulling at his pearly wings. _

_"Amazing," he murmured to himself. He stroked at the silvery white feathers, his expression unfathomable._

_Jace closed his eyes. Whether he could feel it or not, this was the first time anyone had touched his wings without hatred or disgust. Michael had always made him cover his wings, telling him how much his wings disgusted him, and made him want to scratch his eyes out._

_Then, without warning, he faintly heard a brrring noise. _

_Peering over is shoulder, Jace froze, and felt his blood go cold. _

_The man, one hand stroking his back, and the other, holding a chainsaw._

_Jace opened his mouth to scream, but a rag was shoved into his mouth, the taste of oil and grease staining his mouth._

_Panicking, he looked up, into the eyes of the short boy, Jonathon, his mouth twisted in a sadistic smirk, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously. _

_Despite the numbing rune, Jace felt, rather than heard, as the blades of the chainsaw sliced through his feathered wings, and heard, rather than felt, as droplets of scarlet blood splattered across his back. _

_Slice after slice, and cut after cut, the man sheared Jace's angel wings off, until they were nothing but a mere feather stump on his shoulder blades._

_Sobbing against the dirty rag in his mouth, Jace looked up at Jonathon, his vision blurred with tears. _

_The man sighed. "Jonathon, remove the rest."_

_Jonathon gave a childish giggle. "Of course, Father."_

_The man nodded, before turning on his heel, and walking out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft _click.

_Jonathon sneered, his nails sharpening and growing, until in their place were talons._

_Jace's eyes widened. "No," he whispered around his gag. "Don't."_

_Jonathon gave yet another giggle, and clawed and raked at Jace's back, before digging his talons deeper into Jace's scarred skin, ripping his wings clear off his body._

_Jace's back arched and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. _

_The pressure on his ankles and wrists decreased, and Jace realized, faintly, that Jonathon had uncuffed him. he couldn't find it in him to care. His wings. Gone. _

_Jonathon stroked back his sweaty blond hair. "Shh," he murmured in Jace's ear, soothingly. "The pain won't last. You'll be fine soon, my _parabati."

_He clawed at Jace's chest, ripping open a small hole, and opened his mouth._

_Black fluids poured out, filling the hole in Jace's chest._

_Jace, doing his best to ignore the burning pain, recognized this ritual as the "Bonding of _Parabati's_" where the two Shadowhunters share blood._

_A high-pitched scream cut through the air, and at first, Jace thought it was him. _

_Then he realized that his mouth was clenched shut tightly, locking his jaw and biting his teeth together to keep from crying out. _

_Then who the hell was screaming?_

Jace's eyes snapped open. That wasn't part of his dream. Someone _was _screaming.

Dammit. _Clary._

Sitting up and swinging his legs so that his feet hit the floor in one movement, Jace was out the door in less than two seconds, his breathing shallow as he jogged down the winding halls of the Institute, and to his nurse's room.

(***********************************)

Jace paused outside of her door, wondering for a brief moment if Simon had somehow snuck into her room. He tended to act a little out of control when his thirst became too much, after all.

A cool finger tapped his shoulder.

Jace spun around, his hand already reaching for his pocket to grab his dagger. Grabbing the intruder by the throat, he slammed it up against the wall, knife poised at his chest...

...Only to have his "friend" irratibly growl at him.

"Jesus, Wayland," he muttered. "What the hell crawled up your ass?"

Jace scowled. Simon's veins were now more prominent, and he was fairly surprised that he hadn't already tried to get a nibble out of him.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "By the _Angel _Lewis, if you were trying to sneak into her room, God help me I will-"

"Whoa, whoa." Simon shook his head. "I was just coming down here to get her to shut up. No need to go all caveman on me, man."

Jace glowered at him. "You need to hunt, Lewis," he hissed lowly, knowing that thought unheard for a human's ear, Simon could hear him just fine. "I don't need her going all batshit on her."

Simon sighed. "I know, Pretty Boy. But that butcher is so freakin' creepy. He actually looks like he wants to freakin' _cry _everytime I ask for a couple of gallons of blood."

Jace smirked at him. "How romantic, love at first sight. Now you can Turn him, and you can dance around a pile of dead bodies, painting blood on eachother."

Simon rolled his eyes, undeterred. "Listen, just because _your _love life isn't all peaches and cream, doesn't mean you have to go off on me about some perverted cannibal."

Jace released him from his hold, eyeing him warily. "Kaelie left me, remember? I have no love life. Nor do I want one."

He ignored the pang in his chest as he said those words, unwillingly thinking of Clary. _The hell?_

Simon gaped at him, as if finally realizing how stupid the blond Shadowhunter was.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Jace blinked at him, his expression blank.

Simon huffed in frusteration. "Blind idiot," he muttered, turning on his heel and slinking off.

Jace stared at him for a moment longer.

"It's PMS," he told himself, shaking his head. "Poor guy."

Turning back to Clary's door, he realized, with discomfort, that it had gone eerily quiet, no longer screaming.

He frowned to himself, before grabbing the knob, and throwing her door open.

He could barely keep the roar of anger from leaving his lips, staring at the redhead.

(*********************)

Jace couldn't really remember a time when he'd ever actually _seen _Clary wear a shirt without sleeves.

Sure, she'd rolled them up when she'd given him sponge bath, but she'd worn elbow-length gloves.

But now, the light from the hallway giving him a clear view, and the covers tangled around her legs-probably she'd kicked them off while she'd been screaming-revealing hand-shaped bruises and scars, gloving her arms and wrists.

He shook with barely controlled rage, wanting to touch the bruises, just her in general, to make sure she was really there and alright, but knew that he'd hurt her if he did.

Instead, Jace raked his shaking fingers through his ruffled curls, pulling his hair desperately.

Spotting a crystal vase sitting on her bedside table, he snatched if up, glancing wildly around the room, looking for a target to throw it at, without being near Clary.

A sharp sting made him look down at his hands.

In his anger, Jace had squeezed the vase till it had shattered in his hands, decorating his skin with flakes of glass and fresh blood.

The cracking of the glass must've woken Clary up, because the next thing he knew, he heard the rustling of sheets, and then Clary's wary voice murmuring in a sleepy voice, "Jace? What the hell's going on?"

Then, "Oh, my _God! _What the hell happened to your hand?"

Jace refused to look at her, staring blankly at his hands. He couldn't look at her, when he was angry like this. When he got into this sort of mood, it was when he was killing demons; Dangerous for mundanes to be around.

And he knew he'd probably snap if Clary touched him.

(********************)

CPOV

The dreams kept coming and coming.

Different ones of Simon, who'd been acting crabby and weird at dinner, his face seeming thinner, his spidering veins near his temples bulging out.

In her dreams, he'd be covered with blood, licking his lips and staring at her.

Or a cross necklace burning the skin of his collar bone as he clawed at her, Jace coming up from behind him, with a glowing sword, and piercing him from behind.

Jace would have wings in most of her dreams; Sometimes she'd watch in horror as they were ripped off, or were covered in blood.

The most horriffying dream had Max in it; She was in a village, Jace, his white wings tipped with black blood, had been bent over the little boy's still body, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Her brother, holding a blood-stained dagger in his hand, soothingly rubbed Jace's shoulder, his face remaining impassive.

Clary screamed, at that, not knowing why.

Jonathon had always scared her, in a way. He'd always have a hungry look in his eyes, whenever she'd cut herself, or gotten hurt.

In fact, she'd woken up to find him in her room once, just watching her, blankly.

But what she didn't get, was what the hell was wrong with everybody.

Simon's anger when she spoke of Max, his weird behavior at dinner, and most of all Jace.

Why was she attracted to someone so arrogant, and selfish?

She couldn't trust him, that was for certain. Sebastian, back when she'd first fallen in love with him, had been exactly like him.

Clary shuddered, still asleep.

Besides, he'd never love someone like her.

Sebastian had been right; hideous and worthless. A waste of space.

(********************)

The expression on Jace's face scared her.

He was still gorgeous, his golden hair making a halo around his head, the gold in his amber eyes glowing in the dark.

But they had gone darker with rage, his face twisted in anger and hatred. The look Sebastian got before he would hit her.

And his _hand. _He'd broken something-though, guessing from the missing vase on her table, she could guess what he'd broken-covering his hand with small cuts.

Getting out of her bed wearily, Clary took small steps towards Jace, unsure of how to approach him.

"Jace?"

He looked at her, his eyes staying angry, but his face turning into an almost sad look.

"What happened, Clary?"

She blinked, confused. What happened to what?

As if reading her thoughts, he walked around her, sinking onto her bed.

"Your arms," he said in a strained, almost tired, voice. "What happened?"

Clary paled, and glanced down quickly at her arms.

Bile made its way up her throat, and she was forced to choke it down to avoid the embarrassment of upchucking on him.

In her sleep, her sleeves had somehow rolled up around her elbows, revealing the marks that Sebastian had covered her with. Open to the naked eye.

Glancing back up, she noticed Jace studying her face. Almost accussingly.

Clary licked her dry lips, trying to think up of a reasonable excuse. If Jace found out, he probably wouldn't care. No doubt.

But if he did care, and decided to go after Sebastian, he'd get hurt.

"Clary," Jace said, cutting her out of her thoughts. "Don't even think of lying to me. Tell me now."

"You should tell him, Clary."

She jumped, and noticed that Max had appeared next to Jace on the bed, his young face solemn.  
"You'll regret it if you don't. Besides," he added, noticing her scared expression. "He wants to help you. He cares about you. More than you know."

Clary wanted to scoff at that, then realized that Jace was still staring at her, not reacting to what Max had said, at all.

_The hell..._

Max eyed her. "He can't see me," he told her in a "Duh" tone.

She frowned. What...

"Clary."

She blinked, realizing that Jace was still waiting for an answer.

_...He cares about you..._

Clary sighed, and moved to sit next to Max, earning a hurt look from Jace. She realized it probably looked like she was avoiding sitting next to him.

_God, I can't do_ anything _right_, she thought sadly.

Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth, and whispered her story to him.

(*********************************)

Elliott wiped the blood from his mouth, glancing down at the lifeless girl lying at his feet.

"Worthless piece of shit," he muttered, spitting on her face.

"Elliott..." The "Doctor" turned to look at his lover and partner, Jordan.

"What is it, love?" he purred, grabbing the werewolf and nuzzling his neck .

Jordan licked his lips, smirking over his boyfriend's shoulder.

"I hope you're still hungry..."

Elliott spun around, and grinned.

Isabelle stood in the doorway of the abandoned house, her face pale and eyes bulging. She looked like she was about to be sick, Jordan noticed with amusement.

Isabelle watched with horror, as Jordan stepped over her friend's dead body, her employer following him, as they made their way towards her.

(*****************************************)

JPOV

He was going to kill him.

He _would _kill him.

Jace listened as Clary told him of the abuse, and mentally, and internally slapped himself for being stupid enough not to notice.

The limping, the makeup, the longsleeved shirts...

Hell, her _friends _didn't even notice, goddammit!

He rubbed a a hand over his tired face, not objecting when Clary insisted on bandaging it for him.

When she'd told him off the punches on her face, he'd gently pushed her off of him, going into her bathroom and getting a warm washcloth, gently rubbing away any traces of makeup on her face.

She was gorgeous.

Aside from the bruising, her skin was ivory and flawless, and her sad green eyes seemed more of a jade color.

Jace regretted not being able to wash away the bruises, but said nothing.

Instead, he stared at her, studying the light pink of her mouth, and the soft curl of her thick eyelashes...

He couldn't help himself.

Leaning over, Jace brushed his mouth gently over each bruise, kissing each flaw and imperfection decorating her face.

To him, it was a neutreal gesture; Everyone, at some point in their life, always had someone to comfort them, right?

But to his surprise, Clary immediataly started crying.

When he asked her what was the matter, she just shook her head and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

He blushed.

No...Jace Wayland never blushes, he told himself, sternly. But he could feel the warmth pool in his cheeks, and was irritated over the fact that this mere girl could make him blush.

He brushed back some hair from her face, picking up teardrops with the pads of his thumbs.

"I have to go," he murmured in her ear. "I'll be back later."

She panicked, grabbing onto his collar like a monkey, and holding on like she'd never let go.

"No," she gasped. "Please, don't."

He frowned at her. "Clary," he said in a low voice. "I am not going to just _sit _here, with that fucker walking, breathing. He _deserves _what he's gonna get."

Jace could've sworn she stopped breathing. "He'll kill you," she whispered in a choked voice. "Please, Jace. Don't go."

He shook his head, willing the inner voice screaming at him for leaving her when she was this upset; Leaving her when she was this broken.

"I'm sorry."

Kissing her one last time on the forehead, he tried to block out her stifled sobs, breaking into a run as the door shut behind him.

Aw, fuck.

He freakin'_ loved _her.

(********************)

CPOV

Breathe in...Breathe out...Inhale..Exhale...

_God, I'm pathetic._

Clary shook her head.

Pathetic and delusional, she reminded herself.

When Jace had upped and left, the moment the hall lights hit his skin, those same markings-tattoos, whatever-that she could've sworn she'd seen in the hospital, had flickered across his body, before fading.

She rubbed tiredly at her eyes. Jesus, what was she? Fifteen? Already making excuses to check him out...

Clary shook her head, puzzled.

"Max," she whispered into the dark. "What the hell's going on?"

He was in front of her.

She blinked and jumped. "Shi-I mean, crap, kid! Don't do that!"

Max rolled his eyes at her. "Please. Magnus and Jace swear more than those wannabe-gangstas. And, if you really wanted to know what was going on, you'd be more observant."

Clary frowned. "Why couldn't Jace see you?" She asked quietly.

He sighed. "I'm dead, smartass. God, I thought grown-ups were supposed to be smart." He added the last part under his breath.

Clary gawked at him. Did that nine-year-old really just call her a smartass?

"So...I'm talking to a dead kid?" She smirked.

Max nodded. "Yep. And now, I'm going to show you what my family is."

Muttering under his breath, "Why couldn't she be more like Bella Swan?"

Clary scoffed. "You really shouldn't used that whore as your role model," she informed him, standing up. "Now, are you gong to tell me, or what?"

Max shook his head. "I'll _show _you."

(*******************************************)

The Institute was eerie during the nighttime.

Clary shuddered as she noticed that she saw only her shadow, never the ghist boy's that walked ahead of her, navigating his way through the halls without batting an eyelash.

Eventually, when she finally straightened-for a short boy, Max was one fast walker-and had caught her breath, he led her to a large pair of doors, the wood glossy and sleek.

To her amazement, carved into the wood, arching around it, were marks, some similar to the ones she'd thought she'd imagined on Jace's body.

Max, without looking to see if she'd caught up, walked straight through the door.

Clary blinked. _Maybe I can do that..._

She walked into the door.

"Ow!"

She clutched her forehead, scowling. "Dammit," she muttered.

The doors swung open, and Max stared at her. "I'm not going to even ask," he said to himself.

Taking in her surroundings, Clary realized Max had brought her into a library.

A big library.

Clary looked around herself, eyes widening at the large variety of books, and at the ridiculous name each of them had

_Beheading For Beginners, Hunting Demons 101..._

"Here."

Clary jumped, and spun to see Max holding a thick book out to her, his expression amused.

She shook her head at him. "Are you _sure _you're eight?"

He raised his chin. "I'm _nine, _thank you very much."

Clary raised her eyebrows. She wouldn't be surprised if he dropped the F-bomb.

Then she saw the size of the bokk he'd given her.

Her eyes bugged out. "Christ, Max! Am I supposed to read this _whole thing_?"

Max shook his head. "No, I wouldn't let you hurt yourself like that," he said sweetly, his expression one of pure innocence.

Clary held her tongue, not sure if it was smart to cuss out a nine year old, dead or not.

"Flip to page 329," he told her, throwing himself onto a cushiony red loveseat near a vacant fireplace.

Shrugging, Clary opened the book, skimming the words.

Reading out loud, she said, _"Shadowhunters: A race of a hybrid cross of humans and angels..."_

**(************************)**

***sigh* This took me weeks to write. Obviously. **

** So...Next chapter will have Jace face off Sebastian...Any idea how their encounter should go? Cuz I honestly don't have a plan. **

**Also...Maia's dead, majority voted for it...You mean, mean people ;)**

**So, next chapter...Should Izzy meet the same fate as Maia? Or d'you want Simon to save her?**

**Review...They make me happy. Almost as happy as this view...*peers through binoculars, watching mysterios man singing in the shower* **

**Hehe.**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I'm BAA-CK! LOL, sorry for the long wait. Life's been kicking my ass lately.**

**Note: Lily Collins, Taylor Lautner's girlfriend, will be playing Clary Fray in the TMI movie.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

CPOV

Clary scoffed, finishing the chapter. According to the book Max had given her, there was a group of people, Shadowhunters, who thought they were descendants, of freakin _angels. _

She looked up at the boy, who was perched on the edge of the red couch, bobbing his head to an unknown beat. Weird kid.

"So, what?" She demanded.

Max didn't look at her. "So what, what?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe that Magnus, Jace, Alec, and _my brother _are loons who believe they're angels?"

Max did look at her, then. "Actually, Magnus is a warlock. The High Warlock of Brooklyn, he calls himself," Max pointed out.

Clary huffed. "And, so what if they are? What do they do? Charity?"

Max coughed. "Definitely not. You mundanes are cockroaches to us Shadowhunters. Besides," he added. "Watch what you say about them. If _Jonathon,_" he spat his name. "Is a Shadowhunter, that makes you one, too."

Clary sat down heavily, ignoring the dull pain as she sat on her ankle .

Max glanced at her worriedly. "Are you alright?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah," Clary's voice sounded faint, even to her own ears. "Just peachy."

Max sighed. "Look, Clary..." he scratched his sticky-outty ear. "You should know something about your brother..."

Clary looked up at him, her expression carefully composed. "What? Is he the great-grandson of the Easter Bunny? Oh, wait," she jumped to her feet, waving her arms around wildly. "I know! He's one of Santa's little _fuckin' helpers!"_

Max stared at her. "Well," he said finally. "You're taking this better than I'd anticipated."

Clary slapped her hand over her eyes.

"Your brother.." Max paused. "Well. Your brother killed me."

JPOV

Jace's footsteps sounded heavy and loud, like an elephants.

His tight fists were deep in his pockets, and he breathed sharply, struggling not to hit something. Clary's touch, back in the Institute, had calmed him, somewhat.

Now, without her soothing touch, he felt ready to kill someone.

_Or, more specifically, ready to kill Sebastian._

Jace smiled bitterly.

Ah, what pleasure he'd get from Sebastian's long, painful death.

But, he couldn't. Clary might hate the bastard for what he'd done to her, but she'd be damn scared of Jace if she found out he'd killed someone.

He sighed. No, he wouldn't kill him, just yet. But he sure as hell would make him regret for ever hurting his Clary.

First, he'd-

"The _hell?" _The sharp, burning pain in Jace's shoulder blades startled him, and he dropped to his knees, grunting as he rubbed at the burn.

"The Angel..." he muttered. Huh.

He shrugged, deciding to ignore the throbbing pain, and stood up.

Jace glanced around; He was in a deserted alley, for once clear of demons. Or, as mundanes sometimes "saw" them, prositutes and druggies.

He flipped open his cell, preparing to punch in a number, when it began to virbate in his hand.

"Damn fortune-teller."

He sighed, bringing the phone to his ear. "You called?"

Jace could hear Dorothea's huff of disgust through the line, and smirked to himself. Sometimes, it was just too easy.

"You're lucky I'm generous enough to help you, boy," she growled. "And by that, I mean that I'm doing it for your girlfriend."

Jace chuckled. "Hey, now," he teased. "No need to be jealous. There's plenty of me to go around. But whatever. You know where the dead ass is?"

The Lady sighed. "He's at Central Park."

Jace scowled. "Dammit."

"What?"

"He's in public," Jace said with mock-patience. "Meaning I can't kick his ass like I planned."

"Oh, for the Angel's sake..." he could hear Dorothea pour tea in a cup from the other end. At least, he hoped it was tea.

"You men," she continued. "Are like bloody wolves. Why don't you take a piss on the poor girl and get on with your lives?"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Because I don't want to give her a heartattack," he said confidently.

"Wayland-"

He flipped his phone shut, cutting her off. She'd give him grief about it later, but that didn't matter.

He knew where the chicken shit was.

SPOV

Simon brushed a stray lock of dark hair back from his face, frowning as he sniffed the musky air. Brooklyn always stank of sweat, sex, blood and death. It was what he'd always imagined CSI would smell like, if it had a smell.

Usually, the scents of mundanes would blend together, but one stood out tonight...

He sniffed again, nostrils flaring.

No...he could smell the death and blood, and...

_Isabelle._

Panic filled his belly, and he spun on his heel, and running at inhuman speed, not caring who saw.

(*****************************************)

The closer Simon got to the smell of Va-Va-Vanilla and Chanel perfume, also known as Isabelle's scent, the more he realized what danger he would be putting her in.

He hadn't drank anything for a few days, and when he was around spilled blood...More blood was spilled.

Simon shook his head, pushing himself to run faster. No. He refused to hurt the dark-haired beauty. He'd hold his breath if he had to.

Starting now. Simon gulped, his nostrils flaring once more; Hit with Isabelle's sensual scent.

To his surprise, her scent led him to a hotel.

He frowned, skidding to a halt at the entrance.

"Hotel Dumort," he muttered, shuddering despite himself. The Hotel Dumort had been the place he'd been Turned, by some freaky bastard...

"Elliott," Simon thought out loud. By the time Jace and Jonathon had arrived, the phsyco had long gone.

If he'd hurt Isabelle...

Simon clenched his jaw, and furrowed his brow.

_Bat. _

His head shrunk, his ears growing thinner and taller, his arms snapping into the shape of wings.

_Bat._

Simon shuddered inwardly, flapping his thinly boned wings, recalling how many years ago he'd transformed into a similar rodent. A rat.

Jace and the boys sure hadn't let him forget _that._

He paused his flapping for a second, remembering how one Christmas, when Jace had filled had filled his stocking with mousetraps and blocks of swiss cheese. Bastard.

"Fuckin' _A!"_

Simon began flapping with a speed and power he hadn't been aware of.

His tiny nostrils flared, and he was hit by the strong scent of mouthwatering...blood.

He could hear a girl's cry of pain, and he arched in the air, perching on the edge of the window sill, ignoring the broken glass cutting into his fur.

Simon restrained himself from Changing back and killing Elliott and the gangly hippie-looking boy next to him.

Maia, he recognized Isabelle's friend, was laying at the Hippie's feet, her throat slashed and her eyes wide and unblinking.

Simon sniffed, recognizing the stench of death and evil. She reeked of it.

Isabelle, he could tell, was too stubborn and proud to cry, even though he could tell she wanted to.

Her face was crusted with dried blood, wearing a white nightgown; she looked like a deadly angel.

Simon hissed, deciding it was time he made his presense.

Elliott spun around and smirked when he saw him. "Bat," he muttered to the boy next to him. "Must be that Lewis bitch."

The boy cocked an eyebrow. "You want me to take care of him, Elliott?" He was eyeing Simon hungrily, as he perched his furry little ass on some shards of broken, black glass.

Isabelle twitched on the floor, slightly, her inky eyes rolling around the room, coming to a halt at Simon. She didn't recognize him, in bat-form, of course, but she relaxed, nonetheless.

The hippy began stalking stealthily towards Simon, and he took that as his cue to turn back.

_Human, _he chanted inwardly. _Legs...arms...human..._

A white flash of pain, and then...Human. Simon glanced down at Isabelle, noticing her black eyes widening, then sliding shut.

She'd fainted.

Simon chuckled; What a normal reaction from a human. He waited for the wave of scorn he usually felt when he was around mundies, but he felt none.

"Ow!" Simon hopped off the glass, remembering that he was sitting on the glass, and had sunk down a couple of inches, weighing more than a bat.

Hippy-Boy reached out, snagging Simon's cold arm in his grip, pulling him closer.

"You and I are gonna have some fun, Bat-Boy." He winked coyly, reaching down to his belt buckle with his loose hand.

_He insn't going to-Oh, shit, he is!_

Then...

_Damn, and I thought _Jace _was big!_

Hippy-Boy smirked when he caught him staring. "You're _mine," _he growled, leaning forward.

Simon froze: Sure, he never really had steady relationships, never really dwelling with his kind, and mundies were out of question.

But he was _straight, _man. No matter what Magnus and Jace posted on MySpace.

A gold, thin wire curled unexpectedly on the hand that was gripping Simon's arm, jerking Hippy-Boy away from him.

Simon's mouth fell open. "The _hell-"_

**Isabelle**

Simon was half-bat. Or a vampire. Personally, she'd rather him be a bat. At least then, maybe he wouldn't be a brooding prude. **_(_A/N Sound familiar?) **But either way...

_What the hell had Maia slipped in her wine?_

Maia...

Isabelle felt an invisible hand squeez her chest. Her best friend from grade school...She couldn't remmebr Maia with her awkward frizz and braces, and her hard ass attitude...all she could remember was how she'd looked, ripped open and bloody..._dead..._

She was torn from her thoughts, feeling a booted tip nudge her dislocated shoulder.

She opened her mouth to scream, looking up into Elliott's twisted sneering face. The scream did not come, however.

Blood bubbled in her mouth, and she gave a rasping cough, feeling a searing pain in her throat, from where Jordan cut her.

_Gotta get up..._She thought to herself, struggling to sit up, only to be struck back down by Elliott.

"Uh uh," he sang, grabbing a brokenly cracked lamp. He raised it over his head, and Isabelle realized, with sickening horror, that he was going to strike her with it.

_No. _

Isabelle gathered up the last of her strength, and with a burst of adrenaline, swung her foot up, hitting home and crunching into Elliott's precious jewels.

He made a hissing noise, dropping to his knees, the lamp falling with him.

With a great difficulty, Isabelle twisted her neck, dodging the showering of glass as the lamp broke next to her, sprinkles of glass cutting her cheekbones.

She sat up, ignoring the blood the spurted form her slit throat. Isabelle grabbed the broken lamp, wincing as glass cut into her skin.

_God, how was she going to use it as a freakin' weapon?_

Isabelle's eyes flickered to the lamp's chord, which was torn so that golden wires were peeking out. _Hmm...Could be painful, maybe..._

Ducking away from Elliott's reaching hands, Isabelle grabbed the chord, ripping it from the lamp.

Elliott stared at her, than at the chord in her hands, held like a deadly whip, and laughed.

"You," he managed to say through chuckles, "must be _joking-"_

He was cut off, as Isabelle twirled the chord in her hand, similar to the way she'd seen Indiana Jones doing, and flicked it...

Knocking herself in the face.

Elliott no longer looked amused. "Listen here, whore," he spat. "I have no time for your immature little _games,_" he sneered. "Now, why don't you-"

Isabelle, wiping blood from her eyes, flicked the chord again, twisting her wrist slightly so that the whiplike weapon curled around Elliott's neck, and pulled.

His eyes bugged out as she tightened her grip, making it harder for him to breathe, thought she doubted he needed to anyway.

_Damn, _She thought. _How do I kill him now?_

WWBD?

"What would Buffy do?" she murmured. Stake in the heart, fire, beheading...

_Beheading._

Isabelle wrinkled her nose, wincing when she remembered that her nose was broken.

Taking a deep breath, she stared at Elliott. She'd worked with the fucker for two years, and had grown close to him.

_He killed Nancy._

She shuddered, tightening the chord self-consciously.

_He killed Maia._

Isabelle realeased a breath through her nose, and felt anger flare within her.

_He tried to kill ME._

Isabelle growled, and tore at the chord, and Elliott's head came off with a _pop._

Glancing over at Simon and Jordan, she gasped when she realized that Jordan's jeans were pooledd at his ankles.

_The sick fuck, _she thought. _Is he really going to try to-_

Jordan gave a slight chuckle, wrapping his hand around Simon's arm.

Isabelle scowled. The bastard had helped Elliott kill Maia, and now he was going to try to force himself on Simon. Honestly. Who the hell did that?

Flicking her whip back, she watched with satisfaction as the chord snaked around his wrist, jerking his hand off of _her _man.

Whoa, wait. Where'd that come from?

"The _hell-" _she heard Simon breathe, as Jordan whipped around to glare at her, his dark brown eyes glittering with anger.

Then, his eyes shifted to where his lover and mate's headless body lay.

Jordan's face twisted, and he let out a tormented howl, his eyes turning murderous as he lunged at Isabelle.

Simon jumped on his back, grabbing his neck and quickly jerked to the left, snapping the other man's neck.

Jordan fell in a lifeless heap to the dirty floor, next to Elliot's body.

Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief, turning to Simon, mouth opening to thank him, possibly flutter her lashes at him-

-When he turned on her.

"What _are _you?" he roared, outraged. "Stupid? You never, _never _get between a werewolf and his mate, much less _kill _it!"

Isabelle flinched from him, startled by his outburst and obvious anger. "I-"

"Safe it," Simon snapped bitterly. "You're lucky that bitch didn't kill you. What the hell were you _thinking?"_

Isabelle felt anger swell within her. How _dare_ he?

"What the fuck do you mean, _What the hell was I thinking? _I was _thinking _that bastard was going to kill me! I was _thinking _that Jordan was going to rape you! I was _thinking _that those two were the bastards that killed my best friend!"

Simon blinked, obvious guilt masking his face. He reached for her. "Isabelle, I'm-"

"No." Isabelle looked away from him. "Just take me home, please. You're a vampire, my friend is dead, and I smell like shit. I need to go to the hospital.'

Simon shook his head. "Sorry. You have to come with me."

Isabelle glared at him. "You don't tell me what to do!" she snarled. "I'm not going anywhere with _you_!"

Simon sighed. "Look-"

That was all he said, before black dots covered Isabelle's vision, and she slid to the floor in a dead faint.

**Clary**

_"Your brother...he killed me."_

She shook her head.

"No," she whispered, more to herself than him. "No, he wouldn't-"

"Think about it, Clary," Max interrupted her musings. "You haven't seen him, known him for, what, five years? People change."

Clary shook her head again, her head feeling heavy on her shoulders. "Jonathon...He wouldn't...Kill.." her voice faded, realizing that Max was right. She _didn't _know her brother anymore.

Max sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "He did. Knocked me in the head with a hammer."

Clary felt bile rise. "Why didn't..." she cleared her throat. "Why didn't Jace or anyone else do anything about it?" she asked in a whisper.

Max looked at her, sympathetically. "Well, Jace owes your brother his life. Besides, the Clave didn't want anything to happen to Valentine's _precious _son," he sneered. "I was a minor. They aren't very child-friendly."

Clary shook. "They knew about my father?" she choked out.

Max nodded. "Yeah, your dad was legend." His eyes glazed over. "Famous for his experiments, and awesome fighting skills." He shrugged. "Of course, after he sold his wife, your mother, to the werewolves people didn't like him as much."

"He sold Mom?"

Clary's head was spinning with this information. This man, her father, the man who would tuck her in, tell her stories, was a _monster. _

And so was her brother, apparently.

Clary scratched her cheek. "So, Shadowhunters are real, then?"

Max nodded. "Didn't you see Jace's Marks?"

Clary recalled the inky patterns curling and licking Jace's torso, and nodded. "Those are-runes?" she remembered the term from the book Max had given her.

Max tugged a little at his hair. "Yeah. They help Shadowhunters use weapons, and stuff."

Clary blinked. "Wow. And they really kill demons?"

Max smiled, faintly. "Yeah. That's actually what happened to the boys. Abbaddon, a Greater Demon from the Abyss, cornered them on one of their hunts."

Clary frowned. "So, Magnus is a warlock? What's Simon? I don't remember seeing Marks on him and Luke."

Max shook his head. "Luke's a werewolf. Poor guy has to get married to some bitch next month." He gave a small laugh. "God, the guys hate her. She's so controlling and overbearing..."

Clary felt sympathy towards Luke, recalling how alike his fiancee sounded to her mother, who she'd never been close to.

"And Simon?"

Max blinked. "Simon's cool, after you get passed his hard-ass exterior...He's a vampire."

Clary stared at him, and Max shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "What?"

Clary shook her head. "You cuss too much for a nine-year-old."

Max sniffed at her. "You cuss too much for a thirty-year-old," he retorted.

"_Excuse me? _I am _twenty-three_, you turd banger."

"Turd banger? You can't be talking, you-"

"Clary?"

Clary swallowed, whipping around to see Simon holding a bloody Isabelle, looking at her weirdly.

Holy _shit. _Isabelle looked like she'd been cut open and ripped apart. She looked _dead. _

_...Vampire..._

Clary launched herself at Simon punding her fists against his chest.

"YOU _FUCKER!" _She screeched. "HOW _DARE _YOU KILL MY BEST FRIEND? YOU _LEECH!"_

Simon flinched from her blows. "Please, Clary," he choked out. "I need you to help her. I need you to help my mate."

_Mate? The fuck?_

"Ho-ly crap," Max said from over her shoulder. "At least we know Magnus and Alec are the only gay ones in the house."

"Shut _up,_" Clary hissed under her breath. Then to Simon: "What'd you do to her? And where the hell is Maia?"

Simon looked at her with sad eyes, and Clary swallowed back a sob, recalling how in her dream, how dead Maia looked...

"No," she whispered.

He looked down. "Please, Clary." He looked back up. "Her blood...it's too strong...help her. _Please._"

"You should, Clary," Max told her. "Without his or her mate, vampires usually die without them. Their souls can't handle it."

Clary sighed heavily. Great. Now her friends-friend-was dragged into the supernatrual world with her.

"Fine." She glared at him. "Tell me what happen, and who Abbaddon is."

**Jace**

He found him, sitting on a bench in front of a large tree, staring up at the starless sky. His expression was peaceful and content.

Jace's fists curled. How could look so fuckin' _blissful, _when his ex was in pain and miserable from being raped and beaten.

Remembering, Jace began shaking with anger again, his vision going red.

"Sebastian."

The bastard blinked, and leaned forward, turning his head in Jace's direction. His eyes slitted as if recognizing him. He probably did.

"You, again?" He scoffed. "So that whore found a new fuck buddy? God, what a slut."

Jace gave a growl, his hand shooting out and grabbing Sebastian by the neck and slamming his face into the concrete sidewalk.

"Me again."

With his glamour rune on, all the mundies saw was Sebastian falling out off the bench and curled on the sidewalk, like the pussy he was.

Sebastian sat up, brushing flecks of gravel from his shirt. "Listen," he snapped at Jace. "I don't know what Clary told you-"

He was temporarily silenced by Jace's fist, flying and crunching into his jaw.

Blood squirted from his mouth, and Sebastian spat out a tooth. "What the _fuck _man?" he demanded, outraged.

Jace glared down at him. "You," he said in a calm, dangerous voice. "Deserve to die. But," he cut off whatever Sebastian was going to say, "I'm not going to. You will not die." Jace gave him a long, measuring look. "You will be Forsakened."

Sebastian frowned, obviously having no clue what Jace meant.

_He will, soon enough, _Jace thought darkly, pulling his glowing _stele _from his pocket.

His booted foot swung forward, for good measure, cracking Sebastian's ribs.

"What I am going to do to you," Jace whispered in his ear, as he kneeled beside him, rolling up his shirt. "Will destroy what little humanity you have left in you. You will be my slave; A killing machine. You will have no rights, and will lose all your sanity."

He poised his _stele _at Sebastian's shoulderblades. "See you in hell, Sebastian."

With that, he slashed angry runes into Sebastian's back, and he arched up, screaming maniacally.

**Kaelie**

She reached her hand out, brushing the backs of her knuckles against her boyfriend's face.

"I dumped him, baby," she crooned. "There's no need for you to be jealous, anymore."

Jonathon scowled at her. "I don't care about that," he hissed. "He brought Clarissa into our world. Now," he glared at his lover's befuddled expression, "she'll discover her powers, and we could lose the battle, and the Clave will imprison you and me."

Kaelie rolled her eyes, flapping her hand airily. "Please," she scoffed. "Abbaddon will take care of it. Though this time, he should obey us, and _not _attack _you."_

Jonathon sighed, leaning back into his pillows, pondering. "Elliott sent a text, and they've taken care of Maia, and were in the process of killing Isabelle.." he trailed off. "Hopefully Abbaddon will reach the Institute by tomorrow."

Kaelie gave a squeal and giggle, throwing her arms around him. "And we'll be more powerful than Raziel himself," she sighed happily.

**Was it worth the long ass wait?**

**I wasn't in the mood for torture, so Sebastian will be in a worse hell as a Forsaken...**

**Review!**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**IzzyBelle is alive, Simon is alive (Sorta), Jace has broken a highly important Clave rule...**

**The plot thickens...**

**(**************)**

**Sebastian**

It was all that whore's fault.

When she snitched to her crazy pimp that he "attacked" her, he fuckin' hunted him down, and tattooed him! And people call _me _phsyco, he thought.

He was burning.

Not like sunburn, or that crazy itching burn you get from ant bites.

Like _fire _burn.

Sebastian felt an immense pain, feeling as if someone had poured gasoline on him, and lit him up like fuckin' firecracker.

He screamed, but no one came to help him.

He passed out, and still felt the flames.

Sebastian woke up, and still felt the flames.

(*****)

By the time he regained consciousness, his first thoughts were _Hey! I'm alive!_

Then realized he was chained to a fuckin' wall.

Sebastian screamed and roared, pulling at the chains, and thrashed around like a crazy motherfucker.

Dammit.

_"Clary!"_ Sebastian roared, not bothered at how his voice sounded. Gravelly and rusted, deep and creepy. _"You whore! I know you set this up! Man the fuck up and come down here!"_

The room was pitch black, but a beam of light flashed through as a door opened, and that blond pimp strutted in, looking at him smugly.

He stood a couple of feet in front of Sebastian, his eyes defiant. "You," he pointed at him. "Are pathetic. Nothing."

Sebastian opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't say anything. Against his will, he felt self-disgust and hatred wash over him. Where the hell did _that _come from?

"You will not speak." The man's voice was sharp. "The girl I love has been tortured by your hand, for the past few years." He walked closed to Sebastian, pulling a glowing blade from his pocket, and pressing it to Sebastian's throat. "You will suffer longer than she ever will."

A blinding pain shot through Sebastian's body, and he writhed and screamed from his position on the wall.

The man smirked. "Hope you enjoy it here." He walked to the door, paused, and turned. "You're gonna be here a while."

**Clary**

Isabelle's pulse was weak, and her heartbeat was hardly there.

"What in the hell did you do to her, you mosquito?" She demanded, glaring at Simon, who was watching the scene with guilt written on his face.

"Mosquito?"

Clary rolled her eyes at his weak attempt to break the tension. "Bloodsucker is too cliche." She turned look at him. "If you didn't do this to her, who did?"

Simon sighed. "Elliott and his boyfriend."

Clary stared at him, shocked. _"Elliott _did this?" She couldn't help but glance back down at Isabelle's shredded face. "We always said he was creepy enough to be Dr. Jekyll, but..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Is he a vampire, too?"

Simon nodded. "How'd you know about all of this? Jace wasn't supposed to tell you. It's against the law."

Clary opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to answer his question. "I-"

"Wow."

She and Simon spun around in unison, and she felt a questionable burst of relief and happiness when she saw it was Jace.

Clary flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso, and inhaling his scent of lemons and sunshine. "Jace!"

She felt warm, soft lips press against her hair, and he wrapped and arm around her waist, squeezing her flush against him.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Clary heard him demand to Simon.

Simon sighed heavily, and throughout the short time Clary knew him, she knew he was probably raking tufts of black hair fromhis eyes. "A rogue vampire caught Isabelle and Maia."

Clary felt herself stiffen, and Jace stroked his hand down her back soothingly, leaning down to kiss her neck, causing Clary to blush.

"Rogue _vampire_?" Clary frowned when she heard Jace cough uncomfortably. "Simon, have you been watching Buffy again-?"

Clary pulled away from Jace's warm embrace, and looked him straight in the eye, scowling. "Shut the hell up, Jace."

She'd forgotten, her temporary joy at seeing him again, that she was supposed to be angry, because he'd hidden his world, _her _world from her, and had hidden the fact that her brother and father were monsters.

Jace stared at her, shocked. This only fueled her anger. Jesus, why did he have to be so freakin' adorable, and a pain in the ass at the same time?

"You've been lying to me, Jace." She took a couple of steps back. "You lied to me."

Jace blinked. "What-?"

Clary's hand connected with his cheek, the force of it catching him off gaurd.

"Clary, Sebastian's been taken care of-"

She slapped him again.

Jace stared at her with wide eyes. "What the _hell _woman?" He demanded, touching his reddened cheek.

"I can_not _believe you kept something that important from me!" She hissed. "My brother murdered your friend's brother, and yet you do nothing about it! Nothing!"

Jace pleaded with her with his eyes. "Clary, please listen-"

Clary turned her back on him, facing Simon. "She'll wake up in a couple of hours." She jerked a thumb at Isabelle. "When she does, put some ointment and Golden Seal on her sores."

She pushed past Jace, and stormed off.

**Jace**

Jace shoved Simon, his yellow eyes flickering angrily. "What the hell did you tell her?" He snapped, curling his slender fingers into fists, restraining himself from punching the shit out of the vampire.

Simon righted himself, and scowled at him. "Nothing! She knew everything about me when I got here."

Jace sighed, and rubbed his face, scratching it distractedly. "I don't know how she could've..." he trailed off. "It's possible that she could've knownj beforehand."

Simon snorted. "Uh, yeah, don't think so. Unless you've done something to really piss her off, Clary doesn't seem the type to slap people silly for the hell of it." He frowned. "Well, we _are _talking about _you, _here..."

"Shut. Up."

"Whatever." Simon glanced at him. "Who's Sebastian?"

"Her ex. He beat her up."

"Harsh." Simon couldn't help but feel pity for the poor guy. Jace must've really handled him. "What'd you do to him?"

Jace loked away. "I...kinda Marked him," he admitted, sheepishly.

Simon exploded. "_What? _Jace, what the _fuck _were you thinking? You've endangered all of us!"

Jace sighed. "What if it'd been Isabelle that'd been hurt?" He asked quietly.

Simon stared at him, looking ready to rip his throat out. "She _is _hurt, you moron!" He looked down at the dark-haired girl tenderly. "Now she'll be sentenced to death, if the Inquisitor finds her here."

Jace felt guilt crawl up his body. "Dude, Simon, I'm sor-"

The sound of glass breaking cut through his sentence.

Clary's scream echoed through the Institute.

Jace froze and stared at Simon, who groaned. "Are you fuckin' _kidding _me?" The vampire muttered, shaking his head.

"Dammit." Jace wrenched the door open, and took off running to Clary's room.

**Clary**

She slammed her door loudly, blinking back the traiter tears in her eyes.

Clary sniffled, sliding down the door and to the floor, staring straight ahead. _Life sucks monkey balls,_ she thought angrily. _And the Jace is the sack. _

Clary sighed heavily. _Maybe I should apologize for slapping him-_

A light tapping on her window caused her to look up, blinking in surprise.

Jonathon sat in a crouch on her sill, a goofy grin on his face. For a split second, he looked like the Jonathon she grew up with.

Then she remembered Max, how serious and rude he was, how young.

_He'd be thirteen, now. _

She tensed, and glared at her brother, opening her mouth to scream.

Jonathon shook his head mockingly, drawing back his fist, and breaking through the stained glass.

He smiled at her, again. This smile was dangerous, evil. "Hello, little sister," he purred.

Clary screamed, and Jonathon grabbed her, jumping out the Institute's window and into the looming storm.

**(********************)**

**As you can probably tell, I was mostly wingin' this chapter. But...*sigh* That's what happens your babysitting two children that are possessed by Satan himself.**

**Review, because really, it'd be a shame to break our little tradition, now, wouldn't it?**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Hi. Major twist in here...I have a offer, for all of you. If you guys want longer chapters, it'll take longer for me to update. If you want your chapters to be shorter, the updates will probably be...Every other day. I got this idea from another writer on fanfiction, and it seems like a good idea to me. But it's up to you.**

**(*****)**

**Clary**

She blinked, opening her eyes to blackness.

Clary drew in a shuddering breath, choking when she realized there was a filthy rag in her mouth.

She tried to move her arms, but her hands were tied together with what felt like rope. _Where am I? _She wondered, panicking slightly. _What's happening to me? _

"Hello, Clare Bear."

Clary froze, nausea curling like a poisonous snake in her belly. _No..._

Jonathon walked forward, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his short, spiky black hair disarrayed. "Fancy meeting you here."

Clary started yelling at him, only to have her voice muffled by the gag in her mouth. _"Mmff," _she growled, cursing him internally.

Jonathon tsked at her, shaking his head as if disappointed in her. She couldn't give a rat's ass. "Clary, Clary, Clary..." His voice trailed off, and he frowned at her. "I'm disappointed in you. You acted like a common whore, playing Sebastian like a fiddle, and than falling in love with that Wayland freak."

_Freak? _Clary demanded inwardly. _Last time I checked, it wasn't Jace who was going around, killing innocent little boys and kidnapping his sister!_

He sighed. "Kaelie told me her concerns about Wayland's..._feelings, _towards you. As you can imagine, this surprised me." He paused his pacing, and squinted at her. "Because, as I'm sure you are aware of, Kaelie and Jace dated for two years before you tore their relationship apart."

Clary blinked at her brother, her fingers beginning to numb.

"In all the time I've seen my _parabati _date and screw with women, his actions and feelings towards you, are unrecognizable."

Clary's mind was blank. He couldn't mean that Jace cared about her, like that, did he? She was just his nurse. A nurse with spoiled goods.

"So," Jonathon continued, oblivious to her inner ramblings, "I've come to a decision, regarding my dear friend." He stopped in front of Clary his gaze intense. "I want you," he paused. "To work for me."

**Jace**

"Clary?"

His fist, shaking, hammered stubbornly on her bedroom door. "Clary? Open the goddamn door, right now."

Silence.

_"Clary." _Panic ballooned in his chest, swelling tighter and tighter, threatening to suffocate him.

"Jace." Simon tapped his shoulder. "Bro, break the fuckin' door down."

Jace swallowed and nodded, backing up. He turned, snapping his foot back, causing the door to rip of the hinges and fall forwards.

"Shit," Simon muttered, poking his head through the doorway.

Jace couldn't speak; His lips were frozen, his throat was dry. The room was empty, with no sign that the redhead had been in there.

Clary was gone.

**Clary**

She stared at him in disbelief. If she weren't tied up, and her life wasn't in any danger, she might have laughed. _Work? _For _him_?

Clary shook her head dubiously. _Maybe this is a joke, _she thought to herself. _This is his idea of a sick joke, and I'm the target. _

Jonathon's expression, however, was anything _but _joking. "Tick tock, Clare Bear."

_Pop. _She blinked, startled.

Max stood next to Jonathon, making an innapropriate hand gesture, in front of his midsection.

He turned to look at her, smiling brightly. "He wants you to be his spy," Max told her, flicking a glare in Jonathon's direction. "Sort of cliche, in my opinion. You know, spy romance...Girl spy falls in love with victim..." He trailed off dreamily, eyes going distant.

Clary shook her head. Yep, that kid was _seriously messed up. _

"Nevermind," Max blushed, noticing Clary's expression. "If you don't..." He shrugged. "I dunno. You're the first person to stay alive for this long."

_Gulp._

She shot him a glare. _Thanks for the support, jackass._

"Making faces won't help you much, sweetheart," Jonathon remarked, cocking an eyebrow. "Have you come to a decision?"

Clary rolled her eyes. Apparently he didn't realize she stll had that stupid gag in her mouth.

Jonathon huffed. "I guess you just need...some inspiration, on your part." He turned to the side, slightly, and yelled: "Baby, bring the little brat in, now!"

Clary froze, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. _No, he can't mean..._

Kaelie walked in the room, wobbling slightly on her twelve-inch high-heels, hauling a little Asian girl with her.

_Aline._

**Simon**

_Oh oh oh! Sexy vampire, I am falling in love. So just bite me baby, and drink all my blood. Oh yeah!_

If vampires could blush, he would have, internally cursing Magnus for taking malicious delight in screwing with other people's ringtones.

"You fucker," he sneered into the phone, stroking Isabelle's pale hand with his cold one. "What do you want?"

Magnus snickered. "That's hardly the way to answer your phone, _Bloodsucker._" Simon rolled his eyes, picturing Magnus's trademark smirk. "Guess whose visiting the 'House of Bane', Leech?"

Simon shook his head. "Who?"

"Luke. And his fiancee, that bitch, what's her name...Josie? Jenny?"

"Jocelyn."

"Whatever. I tell you, I used to think redheads were cute, but this one..." The phone rattled as he shuddered. "I feel bad for Garroway."

Simon frowned. "Yeah, I've met her before..." He froze. "That's weird."

"I know, that's what I told him-"

"No, not the fact the Jocelyn sleeps in the buff, moron." Simon rolled his eyes. "I mean the fact that Jocelyn looks exactly like Clary."

Magnus was quiet on the other end of the line. "I still think Clary's cute, for a redhead," he said finally.

Simon chuckled. "Don't let Jace hear you say that."

Magnus sighed. "The little shit's got it bad for her, huh?"

Simon nodded, forgetting that Magnus couldn't see him. "She's actually gone missing."

"What? Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

Simon heaved a breath. "Her friend's hurt, and I'm watching her."

"Hurt, you say?" Magnus sounded excited, and Simon winced, preparing for the warlock to burst into song, a habit he had whenever he got excited. "Excellent. I'll be over there in a few."

Simon cocked an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be a graceful host for Luke and his girl?"

Magnus scoffed. "Screw him, and that broad. Is Alec there?"

Simon chewed on his lip. "Nope. He's on a date with that chic."

Magnus was quiet. "I'm coming over," he said, quietly. Then he hung up.

**Clary**

She sighed in relief by the time he took the gag out of her mouth.

Aline was looking at her with fearful eyes, struggling against the hold Kaelie had on her. "Clary?" She asked in a scared whisper. "What's going on?"

Clary stared at her, too shocked to form a sentence. "Clary?"

Jonathon smirked, grinning at Clary with smug satisfaction. "Inspired?"

_The sick fuck.._

Max looked at Aline, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. "Wow," he breathed. "Clary, she's gorgeous."

Clary shook her head. "No," she whispered. "You can't..."

Jonathon scoffed. "Can't _what, _Clary? I can do _anything."_

He signaled at Kaelie-Damn her-and she pulled a long dagger from her pocket. He turned back to look at Clary. "Hurry up sister. Your choice. Work for me, she lives. Don't, and she dies."

Clary opened her mouth, but nothing came out but a croak. "Fine," she rasped. "Just-don't hurt her. Please."

Jonathon giggled. Like a little schoolgirl. Freakin' _giggled. _"Oh, Clare Bear," he said, sighing a little. "I'm so glad you were so willing. But I'm afraid that Kaelie here," he jerked his head at the blond. "Was careless enough to expose the little brat to Clarence, a friend of ours, and, well, we _do _have rules in the Council."

Clary swallowed hard, feeling like vomiting.

Jonathon shrugged, his eyes cold and uncaring. "Oh, well. If it makes you feel any better, she would've died soon, anyways." He leaned forward slightly, and said in a stage whisper: "The fifth of July." He shrugged. "Leukemia is a bother, if I do say so myself."

Clary's teeth began to chatter. "N-no," she cried out. "Please! I-I'll take care of her! I'll work for you-"

Jonathon scowled at her. "Kindly shut up, Clary. What's done is done. Now," he winked at Kaelie, who smiled and nodded, poising the dagger at Aline's throat. "Let's discuss business."

Max looked sadly at Clary. "I'm sorry, Clary," he said softly. "I'll take care of her, 'kay?"

Stricken, she nodded.

Max disappeared, shimmering away into nothing. Clary shivered. At least he was nine, not sixteen. He wasn't yet corrupted enough to turn invisible and hide out in Girl's Locker Rooms.

Kaelie hauled away Aline, her cries fading away.

"Alrighty, then." Jonathon said enthusiastically. "Clare Bear. Are you aware, that you were born with...Powers?"

She stared at him. _Jesus. What the hell is that creep _on_?"_

Jonathon chuckled. "Yeah. Shame that Father assumed that you were too weak to be in our world..." He trailed off, dreamily. "You would've been so powerful, if you had the right training..."

Clary shivered. He was crazy. Like, psycho crazy.

Jonathon peered at her. "Sister, you are going to be my little spy." She swallowed. "I want reports of _every little thing _Bane, Wayland, Garroway, Lewis, and Lightwood does, understood?"

Heart in her throat, Clary nodded.

Jonathon smirked at her. "Wonderful. Oh, and Clary?" She looked up at him, dread spreading through her body faster than her thumping heartbeats could count. "Yes?"

He smiled, sickly sweet. "No fraternizing with the enemy."

**Jace**

Oh, God. Where was she?

"Dammit," he snarled, wrenching open the Healing Room's door. "Simon, call-"

Clary stood calmly next to Simon, smoothing back Isabelle's damp hair from her face. She looked up, though, when he entered.

"Jace?" She frowned. "What's wrong?"

He realized he probably looked like a mes; His hair disarrayed from tugging at it, cheeks flushed from running, chest heaving to calm himself, and his eyes wild with panic.

Jace walked up to her, and grabbed her roughly by the front of her shirt. She yelped in protest. "Jace! What-"

"Where," he growled, lowering his face so that he was looking her in the eyes. "In _the hell were you?"_

She tried to pull away, which only resulted to her shirt to tug down, exposing her chest. She flushed with embarrassment and anger.

"None of your fuckin' business," she hissed, wriggling in the grip he had her in. "Now-Let-Me-Go! You sunovabitch!"

Jace glared at her angrily, not missing the way her eyes darted away from his searching gaze.

"Jace, man." Simon grabbed at his friend's arm, but he wouldn't budge. "Let her go. You're scaring her."

"Stay out of this, Lewis!" Jace barked, turning back to Clary. "She scared _me. _Now," he leaned in closer. "Tell. Me. Where. You. Went."

Clary shook her head. "Please. Put me down." He didn't even blink. "Jace. You're _hurting _me."

Startled, Jace released her, feeling disgusted with himself. Jesus. He was no better than that creep she used to date.

As if reading his thoughts, Clary shook her head, placing her palm on his cheek. "I'm fine, Jace."

He shook his head, and opened his mouth to protest. Clary slid a finger over his mouth, and shook her head. "Fine."

Jace sighed. Damn, she was stubborn.

Simon was surveying them suspicously, but when he opened his mouth to comment on the two, the Institute's doorbell rang.

Jace pulled away from Clary, and glared at him. "Did you invite anybody here?"

Simon frowned. "Just Magnus..." He shrugged. "He wouldn't have used the door, unless there was others with him."

Clary brightened. "Magnus is here?"

Jace couldn't stop the jealousy he felt when he saw how excited she was about the warlock visiting. "You two go see who is is." He cleared his throat when he heard how gruff his voice was. "I'll stay up here for a couple of minutes."

Clary looked at him curiously, until Simon muttered something that sounded suspicously like "Renob", in her ear.

Jace rolled his eyes.

After the two left, Jace fell to his knees, the blinding pain coming from his back caused tears to blur his vision. "_Fuck," _he gasped, grabbing at Isabelle's bedpost with one of his hands.

Another shock of pain, and his back arched, screaming.

The sound of flesh ripping filled the room, and Jace fell back down, vomiting.

"AAAHH!"

He shuddered in pain, writhing on the floor and gasping for breath. "Motherfu-"

Jace arched back with another scream, and he felt the bones in his back contract and break.

Blood ran in thin streaks of scarlet from his back, staining his hair. Jace tried to sit up, but a great weight on his back caused him to collapse.

A knock on the Healing Room caused him to turn his head slightly, and he muffled his cry of pain with his fist. So much for having high pain tolerance.

"Jace?" Simon's concerned voice floated from the hallway. "Man, are you alright? It sounds like a squirrel in labor in there."

He winced. "Fine," he called back. "I, uh, stubbed my toe."

Simon snorted. "So much for your "High pain tolerance". Wimp."

Jace scowled. "Fuck off, man."

Simon chuckled, and Jace relaxed, slightly, at the sounds of Simon's footsteps fading in the hallway.

He wasn't alright, though.

"Not one bit," he muttered, straining his neck slightly to look at the objects that had grown out of his shoulderblades. No, he would probably never be alright again.

_"Wings."_

**(********)**

***cackle* Oh, Clary what _have _you gotten yourself into...**

**So, whaddya think? Short or long?**

***cough*REVIEW!*cough***


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Sorry this took so long. I'm sick as a dog, _and _have vacation. What a bittersweet Christmas break, so far.**

**(********)**

**Clary**

Clary turned to look at him as he jogged down to walk beside her. "Is Jace alright?" She demanded.

He shrugged. "That's what he said," he muttered, not sounding convinced. Clary frowned, but didn't say anything. If there was something wrong with Jace, she had to know. Not just for the sake of knowing if he was alright or not, but because Jonathon would probably kill Jace _and _Clary.

Simon grabbed her hand and led her to the Institute's elevator, lost in thought.

The ride down was quiet, until the silence was broken by Clary, who couldn't stand the tension.

"Who's with Magnus?" She asked finally, stealing a nervous glance at Simon from the corner of her eye. It hadn't escaped her notice that he was tense and as away from her as possible. He was probably thirtsy, she thought. She wanted to laugh at how bizzare the situation was: She was alone in an elevator with a vampire, going down to meet up with, as Max called him, the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Simon turned and looked at her, his eyes dark. "Luke and his mate," he said finally, in a quiet voice.

The elevator was silent again.

_Izzy should have fun with this one, _Clary thought wryly. _She always did have a thing for dark, brooding, and sulky vampires._

The elevator doors swung open, and Simon ran a hand quickly through his hair. "Jace likes you a lot," he said in a fast voice, as if he wanted to get the words out there as soon as possible. "So, I guess I should be a lot nicer, since he hasn't made a comment about coffins or dungeons, yet. You go hide in the music room, and I'll distract Luke and his pimp."

Clary stared at him, mouth open. _Vampires, _she thought dazedly, _Must not need to breathe. There is no way he could've said all of that in one breath. _

"Um," she cleared her throat. "I'll be fine. She can't be that bad." She smiled weakly up at him. "What's she like?"

Simon shot her a small grin. "Well, she _is _a redhead..."

Clary rolled her eyes and gave him a small shove. "Piss off, mosquito."

Simon just smiled and shrugged. "Fine," he told her lightly. "But remember, I warned you."

Clary opened her mouth to tease him about being scared about Luke's fiancee, but a snide, rude voice echoed through the Institute.

"Luke, where the hell is that Shadowhunter boy and leech! I did _not _come all the way over here to stand around and wait for them!"

Clary frowned. "I recognize that voice..."

Simon took a deep breath, the elevator doors sliding open. "You'll probably recognize her face, too."

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she looked at him, and her mouth dropped open when she caught a glimpse at Luke's fiancee.

Jocelyn was attractive, regardless of what Magnus said. She was tall and willowy, her skin the color of ivory, and her intense green eyes, though usually filled with hatred, penetrated those who met her gaze.

Clary looked almost exactly like her, except for being a foot shorter, and her red hair was curly and lighter, her skin sprayed with freckles.

"Oh, my God."

**Jonathon**

He surveyed the chamber Kaelie had taken the child in. She always left a mess, and if she hadn't been useful to him, he would've killed her for it.

Aline was sprawled out on the floor, her throat slit open and her almond eyes stared lifelessly up at him.

Jonathon smiled smugly. Perfect bait, to encourage his dear sister to spy for him. Clarissa. Always so willing to help others, so easy to sway...He shook his head with a smile. It'd be a shame when he would have to kill her.

"Baby." Jonathon fought the urge to roll his eyes at the ridiculous nickname. God, he couldn't _wait _to get rid of her.

Kaelie stroked his arm, her blue eyes bright with malice. "Guess who's finally sprouted his wings-"

He spun around, his onyx eyes glittering. "How would you know?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was going to go kill that Graymark chic. Belle? Whatever. Anyways, when I got in there, Jace was laying on the floor, with _wings._"

Jonathon fought the urge to roll his eyes at her stupidity. "He's always had wings, you idiot. He's just regrown them."

"Oh." Kaelie looked disappointed.

"Did you kill Isabelle?"

Kaelie sighed. "No, I was about to, though. As soon as I saw Jace, I came back. Why? What's so important about her?"

Jonathon reached out, and grabbed her by the neck. "Twit. She is responsible for the murder of Elliott and Jordan. That makes her a threat, obviously."

Kaelie opened her mouth to speak, but Jonathon tightened his grip on her throat. "You have not been given permission to speak," he growled out. "Lewis will no doubt smell your scent in the room, and he will follow that scent. _Here._"

Kaelie's eyes widened.

Jonathon smiled, his expression dark. "There's only one way to solve this, _Baby._"

"Please," Kaelie choked out. "Please, no-"

He ignored her fruitless attempts, and then proceeded to snap her neck, with a soft _crack._

(**********************)

Jonathon Portaled to the Institute, his Invisibility rune keeping even the eyes of his sister and the leech from being able to see him.

Luke was there, he realized with disgust. It still amazed and filled him with scorn every time he saw Luke, Simon, and Magnus, or any other type of Downworlder enter the the Institute.

Attatched to his arm like a parasite, Jonathon snickered at the look on his mother's face. She hated Downworlders almost as much as he and his father did.

Jocelyn's eyes flickered to the side, surveying the shadows, as if aware that he was there. She frowned and shook her head, looking puzzled.

He smirked, and rolled his eyes. Idiots.

Walking past the warlock, Jonathon made his way up to the Healing Room wing, pulling his seraph blade from his weapons belt.

He kicked the door open effortlessly, and burst out laughing at the scene before him.

It seemed that his dear little sister had been keeping secrets.

Isabelle was dead, from the looks of it. And Jace was laying facedown on the floor, snowy white wings, dotted with blood, sprouting from his back.

Jonathon sat down at the foot of Isabelle's bed, and stared expectantly at Jace, who was twitching every two seconds.

Jace took in a gasping breath, and raised his head. His eyes widened when he realized Jonathon was in the room with him. "Shit."

He rolled his eyes at the blond boy, and stood up, sneering down at him. "You finally grew them back," he murmured, shaking his head a little.

Jace smiled a small smile, and pushed himself up so that he was standing. Jonathon chuckled as Jace wobbled, obviously struggling with the weight of the wings.

"Yeah." Jace lifted his chin. "I have wings. Jealous?"

Jonathon raised an eyebrow, and wrinkled his nose. "Not really..." He shrugged. "I can fly better than you can."

Jace paled. "What do you-"

He trailed off as Jonathon rolled up his shirt, tossing it to the side. Inky black wings unfurled from his shoulderblades, arching outwards.

"Jealous?"

**Clary**

She hadn't seen her mom in years.

She looked the same. Except for the wrinkles at the edges of her mouth, which were more pronounced from her pursing her lips.

Clary swallowed the lump in her throat. She was so..._cold _looking. Her eyes were icy and scornful, and her nose was turned up, as if she thought she was better than the other residents in the room.

"Clary?" Simon's voice was just a murmur, and Clary had to strain to hear him. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, taking in gasping breaths. She remembered what Jonathon had said, that their father had sold their mother to the werewolves. _She isn't even the woman that raised me, anymore._

"Simon!" Magnus clapped his hands, with a smirk. "Took you long enough. And Clary..." he flashed her a quick grin. "You look positively _awful_."

Clary shrugged, aware she was probably pale with flushed cheeks, her eyes bright.

Jocelyn frowned, and turned around from the painting of angels she'd been staring at. "Clary? Magnus, what-" She froze when she saw Clary. "Oh."

Clary began shaking. Her mother's face hadn't changed its expression. She didn't look tearful, or elated to see her only daughter. Her face was uncaring.

"Mom?"

**(********)**

**Review...**

**This was pretty much a filler, but it couldn't be helped. My heart wasn't into it :'( Sorry.**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Jace**

_Fuck my life. _Jace stared at Jonathon, the cocky bastard, with his wings stretched out proudly behind him, his expression smug.

_WHERE THE HELL DID HE GET WINGS? _Jace scowled, wincing as his left wing drooped a little, a soft crack letting him know he broke yet another bone in his wings.

Jonathon flipped back his side fringe slightly, and rubbed his hands together. "Tell me, Jace..." He began walking forward, his boots clumping softly on the marble floor. "Have you ever tried _flying_?"

Jace chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering whether he should laugh at how gay his _parabati _sounded, or be scared shitless at the notion of battling him in the air.

Jonathon crossed his arms, and cocked an eyebrow. "You haven't? Allow me to demonstrate."

He crossed the room, shouldering past Jace's thirteen-feet wings, and kicking a foot out onto the sill. "Watch." Jace sighed and turned to face him, nerves in his stomach dancing to the congo.

Jonathon stepped, both feet planted firmly on the wood, and turned to face Jace,his back facing the sunrise. He winked cockily, and fell back, flipping.

_"Shit," _Jace breathed, jogging over to the window. Surely he'd been bluffing when he said he could fly...Right?

He leaned over, and groaned. Jonathon's wings were spread, and he was gracefully arching in the air, and then swooping down again.

He spun around in a circle, and flapped back over to the window that Jace was nearly falling out of. "Think you can do it?" He questioned, a smirk gracing his features.

Jace lifted his chin. The hell he'd let Jonathon know that he was terrified at the thought of flying. "Sure. Move over."

Jonathon shrugged, and tilted slightly so that he was floating right above the window frame. Jace sent a quick prayer to Raziel that he wouldn't let him fall, and stepped up on the sill.

_C'mon, you pussy. _Jace jumped, and blinked, turning around. His father, fuzzy and translucent looking, was glaring at him. _Yeah, you heard me, _his dad grunted. _I raised you better. Jump out the damn window, Jace. _

Jace felt his heart harden at his "father's" words. "You didn't raise me at all, you bastard," he muttered. It didn't matter to him that it was just his imagination, either way, it was something Michael would've said.

He turned back to the pink sky. He could do this. He was a child of Raziel.

Jace took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped.

And dropped thirty feet to the ground.

**Clary**

"Mom?"

Jocelyn turned to look at Clary her green eyes stony.

"Mommy?" Clary felt a lump lodge itself in her throat. God, she'd missed her mother so much! "Mom!" She dodged Simon's outstretched hand, and ran to Jocelyn, and jumped onto her, wrapping her arms and legs around her like a monkey.

Jocelyn's hands, which had been hanging loosely at her sides, abruptly shoved Clary off of her, causing the slight woman to fall onto the floor.

Her face, as Clary looked up at her, was disgusted.

"_Excuse_ me," she spat. "But do I know you?"

Clary doubled over, the woman's words stabbing at her like an icy sword. "Mo-"

"If you're about to call me "Mommy" or "Mom", one more time, I swear to Raziel, I will cut your tongue off, and serve it on a silver platter." Jocelyn's tone was sharp and cold. Her eyes held no recognition as they gazed down at Clary.

"Jocelyn." Luke came up from behind her, and rested a hand on her shoulder, his young face stern. "Don't speak that way to Clary. She and her friends helped heal me and the others."

She shrugged him off roughly. "Need I remind you, _Lucian,_" she sneered. "That _I _am your _fiancee?" _

Magnus stepped around the couple, and bent down next to Clary, and grabbed her arms, lifting her up. "True, Jocelyn," Magnus's voice was cool and disdainful, and even Clary flinched. He usually sounded laid back and at ease. "But Clarissa is more welcome here than you'll ever be."

Jocelyn opened her mouth to protest, but Simon cut her off. "Didn't you tell us that you had two children, Jocelyn?"

She breathed a huff out, angrily. "Yes, but-"

"Clary and Jonathon are your children, as I'm sure you're aware of." Simon crossed his arms.

Jocelyn flushed. "Lucian, I refuse to allow your friends to speak to me in such a manner. Tell them to treat me with more respect."

Luke sighed tiredly, and shook his head. "They are treating you with more respect than you deserve, Jocelyn."

She whipped her head around to snap at him. "If you think that I'm going to love and care for that bitch like my daughter-"

Magnus was tense. "We don't," he cut in, smoothly. "We know that you set yourself up, and sold yourself, and told the wolves your husband wanted to get rid of you, for the sake of your life. We expect you to leave this building, and our lives."

Clary felt something clench in her stomach. _She sold herself?_

Jocelyn shrugged airily, as if she couldn't care less that her fiancee and daughter were kicking her out of their lives. She probably didn't.

"Fine," she said simply. "But when my son kills you all, you're going to wish you could've ran while you could, too."

**Max**

Aline clutched at his arm, sobbing quietly. "What's wrong with me?" she demanded. "What happened?"

She was a pretty girl, and if he'd been alive, Max knew his heart would've been going at a couple hundred miles an hour from her holding onto him like this.

"You're fine..." he scratched his head uncomfortably. "Just, dead."

She froze. "That women...She killed me? I wasn't dreaming?"

Max saddened. He'd wished the same thing when he woke up, out of the shell of his body. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

She began to shake. "What happens now?"

He shrugged. "We help Clary." She blinked, and looked up at him. "Is Clary going to die?" she asked, timidly.

Max shook his head. "Not if I can help it."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and imagined himself in the Institute.

**Clary**

Jocelyn had left the Institute.

Simon and Magnus and Luke were watching her carefully, but she pretended to ignore them. She'd thought, for all those years, that her mother had been dead.

She was not only alive, but she'd sold herself, abandoned her family, hated Clary, just to save herself from her son.

_Maybe, _Clary thought dazedly. _Maybe I should go into the guest room, and sit in a corner and stare at the wall._

"Clary!"

She blinked, and twisted her head to look at the doorway leading towards the kitchen.

Max, Aline, and a tall man with a strong jaw and black hair stood there, looking at her. Max's eyes were wide and scared as he said, "It's Jace."

**(*****************)**

**Sorry this chapter took so long...I'm seriously beginning to loathe this story...**

**Review...**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Happy New Year's Eve!**

**Clary**

_It's Jace. _

_Oh, God..._

Clary inhaled sharply, and turned to look at Magnus. "Magnus, hurry..." He shot her a questioning look, and she remembered that they couldn't see or hear Max. Dammit.

She shook her head. Now was not the time for worrying about them questioning her sanity. Clary turned back to Max. "Where is he?"

Max looked distraught, as he pointed a finger towards the door. "Outside. West wing."

Simon grabbed her arm. "Clary. Who the hell are you-" She ripped out of his grip, and began running towards the entrance of the Institute.

The door swung open, and Alec walked in, lipstick stains on his cheek. "Hey, Clary. What are you-" She ducked under his arm, jogging out into the morning air, her heart in her throat.

She reached the west side of the Institute, and froze mid-jog.

It was so..._surreal. _

Jonathon was floating in the air, midnight black angel wings portruding out of his back, as he pulled a glowing sword out of the belt looped around his waist.

Jace, was beneath him, laying stretched out on the grass, looking exactly how she'd always pictured fallen angels.

He had similar wings, except they were a scorching white and all bent and..._mutiliated, _looking. His wings were dotted with blood, and his eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful, almost as if he was asleep.

She knew he wasn't sleeping, though.

A sob escaped her mouth, and she realized that Jace had actually tried to _fly. _The arrogant blond had wings, and he decided to jump out of a who-knows-how-many-feet tall building.

Tears ran in streaks down her cheeks, and her chin wobbled.

"Clary!" Simon, Alec, Magnus, and Luke ran over to where she was standing. "What the fuck was that all about?" Simon demanded. Then he saw what she was looking at. "Ohhh."

Jonathon threw back his head and laughed, diving down to the ground, so that he landed softly in front of the five.

"Hell-o, Sister Dear." He smirked widely at her. His eyes strayed to the men behind her. "Mutt. Leech. Fags."

Simon and Luke began growling, and Alec reached for his sword. Magnus just gaped at him. "You're calling _me _a fag? Who's the one with the wings, asshole?"

Jonathon slitted his eyes at the warlock, and raised his blade threateningly. "I will take pleasure in killing you, _monster._"

Magnus made an odd, hissing noise, and a bright blue bolt shot past Clary and hit Jonathon square in the chest. He didn't bat an eyelash.

Simon clasped a hand on Clary's shoulder, and drew her back, some. "Step aside, Clary."

She stumbled over, and watched with fascination, as Simon's mouth opened, and his canines sharpened and grew longer.

Luke let out a growl, and his skin rippled, and standing where Luke had been, was a large, dark brown wolf, with bright blue eyes.

Jonathon just shook his head, as swung the blade, knocking Wolf-Luke in the shoulder, sending him reeling backwards, and a stream of blood began leaking onto his fur. He let out a painful howl, but launched himself at her brother, snapping his canines at him. His teeth tore at Jonathon's shoulder, ripping away his sleeves, but only drawing a small amount of blood.

Magnus swore and tried to send another bolt at Jonathon, which he easily dodged, by raising slightly in the air.

Clary felt her head begin to hurt. She couldn't do anything. She was just a weak...mundane? Whatever. She watched in horror, as one by one, Luke, Alec, and Magnus were taken down by Jonathon's strikes. He was going to kill them all.

"Clary?" Aline and Max's spirits walked up to her, looking despairingly at the small battle around them. "Is Jace..."

"He's dead." Clary knew she sounded cold and uncaring, but she couldn't help it. There was no way he could've survived the drop. The thought of him dead made her want to be sick. "He jumped out of that fuckin' window." For once she didn't bother to worry about cussing in front of the two nine-year-olds.

Aline touched her hand, but hers past right through, and Clary shivered at the cold Aline's hand caused her. "I'm sorry. I know you two cared about him." She wrapped her arms sweetly around Max, and he buried his face in her shoulder. Clary smiled wanly. _Well, _she thought wryly. _At least they won't be lonely._

Aline looked over at her. "Where's Maia?"

Clary shook her head, remembering that Isabelle was in the Healing Room. The same room that Jace had jumped out of. The same room that Jonathon had been in...

"Simon!" He looked up from where he was on the ground, blood staining his shirt. Clary began to panic, until Max's hand past through her arm, the cold bringing her from her mini panic attack. "He'll be fine Clary," Max murmured. "Jonathon missed his heart."

She nodded at him, before turning back to Simon, who was giving her a funny look. "Isabelle."

That was all she had to say, and he was on his feet, morphing into a..._bat? _Clary blinked several times before squinting at him. _"What the hell?"_

Simon squeaked, before flapping upwards.

Jonathon saw this and began flying after him. Clary, a stifling anger coursing through her, acted on whim. She leaped after her brother, and grabbed at his ankles, dangling about fifteen feet up in the air.

Shouts of "Clary!" and "What the hell are you doing?" and "Let go!" sounded from the men below her. but she held on tighter.

Jonathon looked down at her. "Sister, you will fall, like your boyfriend, and die. Like your boyfriend."

She shook her head, desperately. "No," she said, her voice breaking. "You can't do this. Please, Jonathon. There has to be another way..."

"Another _way?" _His eyes glittered maniacally. "What do you mean? Is there another way for me to win your heart?"

Clary's stomach dropped, and she was surprised she didn't let go of his legs. "Win my heart? Jonathon, what are you talking about?"

Jonathon let out a breath that sounded dangerously like a sob. "You know what it means, Sister. I can see the disgust on your face right now..." He blinked, and Clary noticed that something ran down his cheek. A tear.

"Do you know what it's like-" he sniffed, pulling at his hair, "to be in love with your sibling? Father hated me, because I felt feelings for you that were more than..._brotherly._" He spat out the word, as if he was revolted by it.

"I want you all to myself, Clary," he said softly. "And that means I have to kill everyone that are going to try to take you away from me."

"Jonathon-"

"I love you, Sister."

**(***************)**

**I seriously wasn't planning on writing that Jonathon was secretly lusting after his sister, but then I thought, what the hell? He's crazy enough, and it sorta makes more sense that he's trying to kill everyone because of it, more than it does that he just wants to take over the world. **

**Review...**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Hey...**

**Just a few more chapters till this story is over...:( **

**And I forgot, I don't remember leaving a disclaimer or not, but I don't own Mortal Instruments. Just the damn screw in my heel that I stepped on. **

**Max**

He could see him.

It was just a flicker, and it was fuzzy, but he could make out his stepbrother's profile. Jace's spirit was standing right next to his body, wings blurred from his back.

Aline gasped when she saw him. Jace was nearly all the way there.

Jace heard her gasp, and turned to look at them, his expression dead, no pun intended.

Until he saw Max.

His eyes widened, and his mouth popped open into an O.

"Max?"

It was no more than a whisper, but Max could still hear him. "Father?"

Jace had gone pale, even for a ghost.

Then he looked down, and saw the vessel that he'd been carried in all his life.

**Simon**

If only he'd been alive, his heart would have been beating out of his chest as he flew up to the Institute. Isabelle was safe. She had to be safe. He wouldn't be alright if she wasn't...

_Don't think like that, Lewis, _he inwardly scolded himself, and dove through the window to the Healing Room, narrowly hitting his wing against the frame.

Isabelle was laying in the bed, in the exact same position they'd left her in. Except her heartbeat was slower.

He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and he closed his eyes in relief. She was alive, for the most part.

A loud crash came from downstairs, and Simon froze, nostrils flaring.

Huh. It sounded like...It sounded almost as if the crash had come from the _basement. _

Simon shook his head. No, that couldn't be right. No one ever went down there.

But then again...

He inhaled sharply, not recognizing the scent, whoever it was.

Simon shifted back into his "human" form, and walked over to Isabelle's bed. She was so beautiful when she was asleep, he thought to himself, stroking a finger down her cheek.

He shook his head. Nah...She deserved better than someone who wasn't even living, and drank blood.

A growl came from behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Simon tensed, but didn't turn around. No, he recognized the smell.

_Forsaken._

He sprang up, clinging to the ceiling. He hung, upside down.

Forsaken weren't supposed to be able to walk through Institute doors, they'd burn to death...

Unless their master allowed them to.

Knowing Alec, he knew the only other Shadowhunter _stupid _enough to think about Marking a mundie, would be Jace.

The thing was ugly, like all Forsaken were. It was tall, with greasy, string black hair and blood red eyes, its mouth hung open, its teeth broken and jagged, crooked and looking ready to fall out any minute.

Its skin was gray, with several runes clawed angrily into its skin.

And the _stench _was _awful._

It raised its head, narrowing its bloodshot eyes at Simon.

The vampire sank his nails into the ceiling, keeping a strong hold as he swung his legs down, kicking the Forsaken square in the face.

It teetered back, slightly, but otherwise didn't awknowledge the kick.

Simon dropped to the floor in a crouch, sweeping a leg behind the Forsaken's ankles, causing it to fall.

It raised a mangled looking claw, and backhanded Simon, so he flew across the room and landed on top of Isabelle.

One of the Forsaken's claws had somehow snagged into Simon's skin. And though it didn't cause any damage for Simon, a thin spray of blood flew out of the open wound-

-Into Isabelle's yawning mouth.

**Clary**

At Jonathon's confession, thousands of images of her childhood replayed inside her head.

Camping in their backyard with Jonathon, and him insisting on sleeping in her sleeping bag to keep them both warm...Taking a bath when she was seven and he was eight, and him telling her he could wash her body for her...Him walking into her room while she was changing, and him checking out her nude body with hungry eyes...

She shivered, digging her nails deeper into his skin. God, who knew what he'd been thinking during those moments? How long had he lusted, loved after her?

A trickle of unease and fear swarmed through her.

How horribly..._wrong. _

No wonder he'd sounded so pissed when he found out Jace cared about her.

The thought of Jace made her chest hurt. He was actually dead..._Gone..._Forever.

Jonathon had paused, in mid air, staring down at her. His eyes were flickering over her face, gauging her reaction.

"Sister," he began, making Clary wince. She wished he'd stop calling her that, especially now that she knew his..._feelings _for her.

"I see your lovely face, and it is confused. What puzzles you, love?"

_Believe me, _she thought. _I'm not the confused one, here._

"I just...Why have you waited so long to tell me this? How you feel about me?"

Jonathon's face cleared. "Ah. I was wondering when you would ask that. See..." he glared down at the ground below them, at Luke, Alec, and Magnus who were staring anxiously up at them. "There was Jocelyn. She knew of my feelings for you, and couldn't care less. When she isn't thinking of herself, she's thinking of ways to blackmail people. She threatened to tell Father about my feelings." He shrugged. "Eventually, she realized that nothing would keep me from you, and left. Then, I had to get rid of our father, who stupidly insisted on hiding you from our world.

"He was always afraid of your powers, see. He knew you could kill him, take advantage, or rule over him." Jonathon shrugged. "So, when he got shot by those "rowdy teens"." He made air-quotes. "It was really my slave, Abbadon, killing him.

"Then there was Sebastian."

Clary stiffened. He wouldn't...

"I hired him to date you. Naturally, he grew to hate you." Jonathon sighed. "I told him he was to beat you, hurt you, and made you feel unloved and worthless."

He smiled brightly down at where Clary was silently fuming. "That would mean when I finally had you, your wllpower would be broken down enough for you to love and submit to me completely."

_He's psychotic, _she thought desperately. _Even someone as crazy as he is wouldn't do something like that. _

Jonathon reached a hand down, and swung Clary up so that he was embracing her, her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides.

"With Aline gone, and Maia and Jace dead. And soon, Isabelle, the leech, mutt, and the gay freaks..." his eyes got a faraway look in them. "You'll be mine."

_Distract him. Distract him! _

Clary smiled sultrily at him, scratching a nail down his chest, shuddering in disgust inwardly. Looking innocently in his lustful eyes, she cocked her head shyly at him. "When you say powers, Jonathon..." she leaned in so her mouth was hovering right next to his ear. "What did you mean?"

He shivered. "You can create runes, love." He turned so that his lips were touching her neck. "Father believed you could even create a rune to summon Raziel." He laughed. "The old man had a few screws loose."

_Hypocrite, much? _"I would need a_ stele_ for that, wouldn't I?"

Jonathon frowned. "Yes, but I don't see the need for you to have one. I'll take care of you, when all of this is over, Sister."

_And I can't wait for you to be over, you son of a bitch. _"Do you have a _stele, _Brother? Can I see it?" _Let me have it, you ninny..__._

If Jonathon was puzzled by her newfound interest in his _stele, _he didn't show it. "Of course, love. Anything for you." He nuzzled her neck, and Clary bit back the string of profanities she wanted to yell at him about respect for other people's personal space.

_Just give me the damn stick. _"Now, please? Love?" God, how she wanted to choke on the term of endearment.

Jonathon sighed happily at the endearment as it came from her mouth, and she almost wanted to feel guilty. Fortunately, the more time she spent with Jace and Simon, the less sympathy she felt for people who pissed her off.

Keeping one arm around her waist, Jonathon reached one hand down towards his belt, and pulled the glowy-stick-thingy and handed it to her. "Here."

Clary couldn't help but admire the wand-shaped organ. "It's beautiful, Jonathon," she breathed. It really was. Pity she was about to use it as a weapon.

"Hey, love?" She looked up at Jonathon a light bulb going off in her head. "Can I try out my...Gift?"

He brushed his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss. "Of course you can, love."

Clary rolled the sleeve of her right arm up, and imagined shields and Jace. The rune of safety and protection was inked into her forearm.

She smiled sweetly up at him, pulling the collar of his shirt down, so that the tip of the _stele _pressed against the skin of his chest. _Prepare to be burned, asshole._

Clary closed her eyes, and imagined fire, and pain.

Images of flames and screaming entered her mind, as did a rune that made chills run down her spine.

She bit her lip, and began to draw the rune, right above his heart.

As soon as it was finished, she opened her eyes, and gasped. It was a terrifying rune, and she knew it would be scarred in her memory forever.

Jonathon looked down at the rune, his brows furrowing. "Love..." Then he read it. "_Burn._" His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a scream.

He dropped Clary, who was prepared for the release, and arched into the air, screeching into the morning air as pain and fire licked its way into his body.

She fell to the ground, but felt no pain, thanks to her protection rune.

Clary rolled to her feet, and Luke walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and asked her if she was alright.

Magnus looked at her, than the firehot _stele _in her hand. She really didn't mind the pain. It gave her wonderous pain after the numbness she felt from Jonathon's confession.

She ignored the three men, instead looking at the four ghosts that stood across the yard. The tall man, Aline, Max, and Jace.

He was staring at her with remorseful eyes, and Clary felt the pain in her chest tighten at the thought of parting from him.

Forever.

**Simon**

_No, no, no, no..._This couldn't be happening. Not to Isabelle. Anyone but Isabelle. She was too full of life for this to happen to her.

_Please, no..._

He remembered vaguely of his Change. Accidently biting into Elliott's arm while in the middle of a battle, and catching some drops of blood in his throat.

Then he thought of the Forsaken's cut...The blood, spraying into Isabelle's mouth as she'd finally woken up and yawned...

The Forsaken was dead, thankfully.

But Isabelle wasn't alive.

Not anymore.

She wasn't dead, either.

She was undead.

**(*********)**

**Ha. Betcha didn't see that one comin', huh?**

**I mean, did you _honestly _think I'd forgotten Sebastian? *shakes head* I'm so ashamed of you. **

**Anyways, what do you think I should do about Jace... I have some ideas, but...*shrugs* I don't really like 'em.**

**Review...**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Hiya. **

**Sorry I never really respond to y'all's reviews...I read 'em and appreaciate that you guys are actually reading my story...**

**This story has probably one or two chapters left, depending if I decide to make an alternate ending.**

**So I'm holding up a mini vote. I already got one from Miss Neeecole66, and many of you have already begged for me to keep Jace alive...:p **

**Yes for an alternate ending. No for...Well, no, obviously.**

**:p This chapter is painfully short, and I personally think it's boring :'( Don't knock it till you've tried it.**

**Jace**

Huh.

He never really thought about dying.

Well, sure, he had. Shadowhunters never really lived long, usually were killed more often than demons were, actually.

But he'd never really considered what it'd be like to be dead.

There was no flash of light, no overwhelming content and peace.

He'd just jumped out of a freakin' window, and killed himself, unintentionally.

So, yeah, instead of contentment and peace, he felt a shitload of pain, before...nothing.

And there was no flash of light.

Just darkness.

When he opened his eyes, and sat up, he left his body behind.

Then he saw Max. Of course he hadn't grown, or changed physically, at all.

He was still short, even for his age. His untidy brown hair still had that foxlick, and hia glasses still hung crookedly on his ears.

Michael was there, too, standing next to that Asian girl, Aline, and Max.

He didn't look at Jace with his usual disgust and contempt.

Hell, he didn't even look proud. He just nodded at him, before looking back up at Jonathon, who had Clary dangling from his foot.

When Clary had fallen, it took Max's reasoning that even if Jace had run under her to catch her, she would have just passed through him, to keep him from flipping out.

But she seemed unharmed, and stood next to the boys, who were checking her for injuries, and asking her what had happened.

Max noticed Jace's sad expression. It should've been him there, making sure she was alright, making sure she hadn't been hurt.

"Don't worry," Max told him, smiling unconvincingly. "It gets better."

But Jace had known Max long enough to know that his left eye twitched slightly when he was lying.

And right then it was twitching like a bunny's ass.

Jace shook his head. "No," he said in a quiet, firm voice. "I really think it won't."

Max's face fell, and Jace felt a pang of regret for saying that. Max had only been trying to cheer him up...

Clary turned to look at him.

It didn't really surprise Jace that she could see him, she seemed to be more special than he'd thought she'd be, when he'd first stumbled into the hospital, nearly bleeding to death.

He gave her a half smile, feeling sadness and self-pity threaten to drown him. He'd fallen in love with the first and only girl that made him feel special, and now he'd lost her because of one jump.

_Having wings doesn't mean you can fly, _he thought, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

Jonathon had obviously known that, when he'd coaxed Jace into jumping into the air.

Her green eyes turned glassy, and she looked away, her flaming curls creating an auburn curtain, blocking his view from her face.

Max sighed. "Jace, I wish it didn't have to be like this, for you..." his voice faded, and he looked at the ground.

Aline looked over at Jace shyly, her almond eyes somber. "She loved you, you know," she said in a quiet voice. Jace wished she hadn't said anything. It'd be so much easier if Clary didn't feel anything for him at the moment, or at all.

Max glanced at Jace's expression. As if reading the young man's thoughts, Max leaned over and mumured something in Aline's ear, and she nodded, her face bright with understanding, as they walked off, hand in hand.

Michael looked over at Jace. He looked almost as if he wanted to say something, but obviously decided against it.

He gave him a gruff nod, before vaporing into thin air, the last time Jace would see his father.

Jace was alone.

**Yes, yes, I know...I _know. _Before you bitches flip your shit about how painfully short and boring this filler was, please understand I wanted to update before my exams...*pouts* **

**So, yeah, if you're gonna complain about it, you may as well vote ;)**


	20. Epilogue

**Sorry, guys..**

**-I've decided against having an alternate ending. **

**Read A/N at the bottom after you've finished reading to find out why. **

**Clary**

_One Day Later_

Jonathon had burned to death.

It wasn't on purpose, of course. It was just a way she thought would distract him, and put him through pain at the same time.

Of course, when she told Magnus this, he simply said that she had no control over her powers, and that it'd be wise to wait till she learned how to work them, before she tried experimenting on anybody else.

Jace was dead.

Sure, she'd known that the moment she'd seen him, laying motionless on the ground, his eyes closed.

It still caused an unimaginable pain to blossom in her stomach, and she'd have to sit down and try to regain her breath, trying to keep the panic attack she knew was coming.

What she disliked more than the pain, however, was the sympathetic looks the others gave her. Why the hell were they looking at her like that? They had other things to worry about, like the fact Alec was refusing to speak to Magnus, and Isabelle was always two seconds away from ripping Simon's head off.

When she woke up, fully turned into a vampire, saying that she was pissed was an understatement.

Simon now had two parrallel scars that sliced across his right eye, scars that had Isabelle beaming about like a mother of an honor-roll kid whenever she saw them.

They didn't know the pain she went through.

They didn't see the one that they loved get murdered in front of their eyes whenever they fell asleep.

They didn't know anything about the bruises that ran along her back, caused by her brother in her dreams.

She didn't wonder why, or how she got affected from the events that occured in her dream.

Once, Jonathon had flung a dagger at her, slicing across her shoulder. She'd woken up from a stinging pain, blood dripping from a small cut on her shoulder.

Jace was alive in her dreams. That was an upside.

Jace was murdered in her dreams. That was the downside.

No.

They didn't know anything.

**READ THIS A/N!**

**Again, this chapter was short. :p **

**Anyways:**

**If you are upset about me not having an alternate ending, blame BadAssChick01.**

**But if you are happy with my other idea, thank her.**

**I am writing a sequel to this STOOOOORRRYYYYYY!**

**Thank you, BadAssChick01 ;) You are my saving grace.**

**Review...**


	21. Alternate Ending

**Yeah, I know I wrote a sequel to this...But I decided this would be faster and easier, so I took down MBN. **

**It wasn't making any sense, even to me, anyways. :p**

**~M~G~A~**

**Jace**

Jace bit his lip, standing on the edge of the sill, and staring out across the very _large _drop, and back up to Jonathon's smirking face.

"Why are you doing this?" He yelled, buying some time. What if he wasn't able to fly?

Jonathon clapped his hands, smiling brightly. Maniacally, in Jace's opinion.

"Ah!" He sighed. "The million dollar question. Why _am _I doing this, Jace?" He glided gracefully over to where Jace was perched on the window sill. "You stole her away from me," he whispered, the wind carrying his words across the yard. "She could've belonged to _me."_

Jace blinked, realizing who he was talking about. "You mean Clary?"

No way. There was absolutely no way Jonathon was in love with his own sister.

Jonathon sighed, and raised his seraph blade, stroking it lovingly. "All I have to do," he said in a soft, quiet voice. "Is to get rid of you, first."

Jace shook his head. "I won't let you do that," he said, his voice more confident than what he was feeling.

He jumped, throwing his dagger the second his feet left the sill, the knife striking Jonathon square in the chest.

And then he was falling.

_Fly, Jace! _A voice that sounded suspicously like Max echoed in his ears, and he shook his head. No. Max was dead.

_No! _It sounded like he was crying.

_Don't cry, Max..._

Jace frowned. Where was he? It was so dark...

So dark...

_Oh._

He was dead.

Jace almost laughed at the irony of it. Weren't Shadowhunters supposed to die in battle? Not high windows.

He heard the faint sound of sobbing.

_Clary._

_"Jace," _a soft voice whispered in his ear. Max. _"Wake up. Please. You can't leave Clary alone here. She won't make it without you with her."_

I can't move, Jace wanted to say. I can't open my eyes.

But his eyes were open. Darkness was blocking his view, though.

"Jace," Clary said in a trembling voice. "Don't leave me. I need you." Her voice broke.

I'm not going anywhere, Jace thought, smiling. What a silly thought. He could never leave her. He loved her too much.

"Jace!"

He opened his eyes, but immediataly closed them again, trying to block out the morning sun. Too bright.

"Clary?" He cleared his throat.

Tear stains tracked down her cheeks, and the tiny redhead launched herself at Jace knocking him to the ground, and she showered kisses on his face, sobbing. "Oh God-You're really...Alive."

She buried her face in his chest, and began sobbing some more.

Magnus walked up to them, frowning. "Don't get all mushy on me, now," he warned the crying young woman. "We need a badass here. Alec's starting to get all lovey dovey since his plan on staying straight won't work. Simon and Isabelle are.." he trailed off and winced. "Bonding."

He glanced at the blond, who had started kissing Clary repeatedly on the side of her neck, murmuring in her ear. "And we all know Jace is a lost cause, now."

Jace rolled his eyes and glared at the warlock. "Piss off, Magnus." His words were muffled by Clary's soft skin.

Magnus threw his hands up, and turned to walk away.

Clary pulled away, wiping at her wet cheeks and sniffling. "You asshole!" She yelled, suddenly, slapping his shoulder. "I thought you were dead."

Jace grinned down at her. "Were you worried about me?" He asked in a teasing voice.

Clary scowled. "It isn't funny. What if I was laying on the ground, not moving or breathing?"

He froze, and pulled her closer to him. "Got it. I'm shutting up." He glanced around. Jonathon was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's-?"

"He's dead."

Clary fiddled with her fingers, looking away from him.

"Clary...I'm sorry..." Jace realized he'd just killed the brother of the girl he was in love with.

She shook her head. "Don't be. He changed."

Then her demeanor changed, and she grinned at him. "Notice anything different?"

Jace shook his head. Other than the big ass wings sticking out of his back, no he hadn't.

She giggled. "You aren't going to ask why you're alive?"

Jace shook his head. "I'd rather not."

Clary crossed her arms. "I'll tell you anyway." Jace opened his mouth to protest, but she slapped her hand over his mouth. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

"I brought you back."

Whatever Jace had expected, this was not it.

His eyes bugged out, and he tried to say something, but it was muffled by Clary's hand.

Clary smiled. "Look at your arm."

Jace frowned at her in confusion, but raised both his arms, and started in surprise when he saw a new rune inked out on his left wrist.

_Life._

"You made this?"

Clary nodded happily, her warm green eyes watching him curiously, waiting for his reaction.

Jace grinned at her, and pulled her face to his. "Thank you," he whispered softly.

Then he started kissing her.

"Oh, how wonderful," he heard Magnus say sarcastically, though his voice was faint, Clary's smell consuming his entire being. "Nobody's going to be leaving their room for at least a week."

**~M~G~A~**

**Max**

Aline held his hand, covering her eyes. "Ew..." she complained, as she watched her old nurse make out with the blond man. "I _so _did not need to see that."

Max nodded in agreement. "Grown ups are so gross," he told her, pulling at her hand. "C'mon."

Aline turned to stare at him in confused. "Aren't we going to say good bye to Clary?"

Max snorted. "I know Jace," he told Aline. "He's not going to let Clary out of the Institute for at least two weeks."

Aline's nose wrinkled as she caught his drift. "Boys are so icky."

Max pretended to be offended.

"There it is," Aline squealed, pointing.

A large raven, Hugo, stood perched on the stone wall behind the Institute. The Raven Guide.

Max took a deep breath, and Aline squeezed his hand. "Ready?"

He nodded.

They held hands, and walked slowly to the Bird of Battle and Death, to whatever it was to come.

**~M~G~A~  
**

**Yay, happy ending...XP**

**Review...**


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